Forgive Me?
by oh-snap-it's-her
Summary: One beautiful spring morning, Harry and Ginny get into a friendly argument. Years later, it's still a joke between them, until an accident brings the joke to an abrupt end. R&R! T because t's a cool letter, don't ya think?
1. The Beginning

**A/N: So. New multi-chapter story. It's just a little random thingamajigger that came to my mind. Now, be warned, I'm by no means articulate in the romance category, so bear with me. Anywho, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: Heh. I wish.**

There was a long-lived joke between Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter.

The origin of this joke took place one pristine April morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The air was sweet with the scent of the blooming wildflowers that dotted the sloping lawns. Hagrid's garden was bursting with sweet-smelling flowers and plants that he had taken to growing as a hobby, under the watchful eye of Professor Sprout. The trees were just shedding their blossoms as new leaves took their place, the fallen petals swirling around the chatting students like snow. The light breeze carried the sounds of the students' laughter as they ducked outside into the spring weather to escape the stress of the ever-nearing exams.

It was a picturesque day, and almost everyone was outside. Some were playing with the Giant Squid, some were practicing Quidditch in the Quidditch pitch, and some were just lounging on the lush, spring-green grass, chatting or doing homework.

Two of those students were Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter.

Ginny had reluctantly brought out a stack of potions notes and a large textbook upon her friend Hermione's insistence. Ginny was a fifth year, and to Hermione, that meant one thing. O.W.L.s. Ginny didn't much care about the upcoming exams, but Hermione was determined to push a textbook in front of Ginny every waking moment. Ginny loved her dearly, but Hermione, like Ron and Harry had found out the hard way just the year before, was a study nut through-and-through and was becoming increasingly irritating as the exams loomed nearer.

Harry, a frequent victim of Hermione's study-induced wrath, had promised Ginny to help her with Potions (which was, like Harry, the subject Ginny was struggling with the most). Harry agreed to help not only because he was a loving boyfriend, but also because Hermione had taken to pestering him about "distracting Ginny". Oddly, both Ginny and Harry believed that Harry was not proving to be a distraction, and both liked each others' company more than studying anyway. But even Hermione had to admit that helping Ginny study was beneficial, though she warned them that she would be watching for what she deemed to be a diversion.

So Ginny and Harry had been studying in the common room while Hermione, like promised, analyzed their every move, while quizzing Ron about Fwoopers for his Care of Magical Creatures finals at the same time. Hermione was a very skilled multi-tasker, after all.

But apparently today was also the Gryffindor Gobstone Tournament, which made studying a bit difficult.

"What are the properties of a Diricawl fe—"

"MATTHEW DUPPET IN THE LEAD AFTER A SPECTACULAR MOVE!" yelled the commentator of the game, standing up and banging his fist on the table.

"The properties of—"

"NOT TO BE DEFEATED, ELI ERNEST RALLIES BACK!"

"THE PROPERTIES OF—oh, bloody hell, Ginny, let's go outside."

So, in effort to be able to talk without screaming and to dodge the goo sprayed everywhere by the erupting Gobstone pieces, Harry and Ginny sought refuge elsewhere.

They ended up sitting on the grass under the tree by the lake, whose branches were covered with a mixture of blossoms and leaves. Harry started to quiz her on the uses of Jarvey fur in potions.

"According to this random name I can't pronounce, but who evidently discovered Jarvies, what are the three uses of Jarvey fur? What do they do to a potion?" Harry asked, sliding a finger down the page in the book to check for reference.

When Ginny didn't answer, he propped himself up on his elbows to see what was wrong. Apparently, Ginny wasn't listening to Harry. She had plucked a long blade of grass from the ground and was twirling it between her fingers. Her idle gaze had strayed to some point in the lake. "The Giant Squid's active today," she observed spontaneously, tucking a long strand of red hair behind her ear and plucking another piece of grass from the lawn.

"Wonderful," Harry declared sarcastically. "Unfortunately, that has nothing to do with this bloke in your textbook. Or Jarvies. Or potions, even."

"Not true," Ginny countered. "I bet the Squid's somehow distantly related to Jarvies. Just look at him!"

Harry turned and glanced at the lake and saw the Giant Squid propelling himself rapidly across the water with his multiple tentacles. "Uh, Ginny? Sorry to break it to you, but Jarvies are supposed to look like overgrown ferrets."

"Exactly! Don't you see some ferret in him?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Case in point," Ginny murmured absentminded, either missing or pointedly ignoring Harry's sarcastic tone.

Harry sighed. "Ginny, Hermione's going to kill me if we don't get anything done. You value your boyfriend's life, right?"

"For the most part," she replied nonchalantly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Jarvies. What about them?"

"They look like overgrown ferrets, for one. Their fur…is used in potions because it…does something to counteract the…the thing in the potions…Oh, I don't know. Can we call it quits, just for today?" Ginny gave him her big brown puppy-dog eyes.

Harry smirked. "Those don't work on me."

Ginny threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "What will make you change your mind? A good snog?"

Harry pretended to look thoughtful. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Fine." Ginny leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

They broke apart after a few seconds and sat with their foreheads together. "Close the textbook, Potter," Ginny said, trying to sound threatening. It was ruined, though, by the smile that she was unable to get off her face.

"Yeah, about that," Harry answered, acting like what he was about to say was going to give him serious grief. "I've thought about it, and I've realized that Hermione has been on a rampage as of late, so it wouldn't be the wisest choice to go against her right now. So, tell me about those Jarvies. What are they? What do they do?"

"Hermione's not on a rampage! C'mon, Hermione's never had a boyfriend, so what would she know? I bet you she'd ditch exams if she had one, too!"

"Not on a rampage, you say? Did you see what she did to Ron?"

"I'll never, ever forgive you, Potter," Ginny declared fiercely as she resigned to studying. "Never, ever, ever!"

"You won't forgive me?" Harry repeated looking unconcerned. "What a shame."

"That's right!" Ginny said, suddenly growing attached to this idea. "Never! I don't care if you save the bloody world, or—or get elected Minister of Magic! You are always going to be left unforgiven my me, Ginevra Molly Weasley. And you know it's true, because I pulled the middle name card."

"Pity."

Ginny huffed. "You'll be sorry, Potter. Just you wait."

And that was when it started.

**A/N: Duh duh duh duuuuuh. Give me a review, and I'll be happy. Very, very, happy. It could be anything, but flames are for Fawkes.**


	2. Together

**A/N: I've never gotten this much response to a story before! I opened my inbox, and BOOM! Barrage of story alerts, favorites, and most importantly, REVIEWS! Oh, I'm a happy girl right now. Anyway, sorry about the delayed update. I wanted to figure out a basic storyline before I posted, and had track meets, homework, and other things to worry about on top of it. But never fear, here it is!**

**Disclaimer: How could I possibly be JKR? I'm not blond, nor British, and I'm not even in eighth grade yet!**

It was hard putting their lives back together after what the _Daily Prophet_ had dubbed the Second Wizarding War.

Harry was putting in hours of work at the Ministry of Magic, helping Kingsley Shacklebolt put the Ministry back together after its near collapse. On top of that, Harry was also helping rebuild Hogwarts and patiently answering to the crazed reporters, who were all trying to extract as much information as possible from the battle.

Needless to say, Harry was a busy man.

Ginny wanted to talk to him all week. He was on her to-do list: "Sort out relationship with Harry." But between Harry's odd jobs at the Ministry and Hogwarts, and her own family's crisis, Fred's death, they barely got to talk.

Fred's death was a whole other story. Ginny had a feeling that Harry was feeling uncomfortable with George's vegetable-like state and Mrs. Weasley's spontaneous sob-fests, and couldn't exactly blame him when he stayed away from the Burrow during these times.

So, as a result from the absolute chaos going on, it was about a week after the war when they finally got to talk.

It was late at night, and Ginny was sitting up on her bed. She was tired, but she couldn't go to sleep. She expected it had a lot to do with the shock of losing Fred, and all of the people she loved who had died just so others could live.

Ginny sighed and leaned her head back on the wall. It was no use trying to go to sleep now. She would just have nightmares. So she slipped out from underneath the covers and padded downstairs, no real destination in mind.

She ended up in the kitchen, somehow, with a cup of tea in her hands. She sat down at the kitchen table, and traced the grains in the wood with her finger. The path of the wood led her all the way across the table, turning with loops and squiggles. Then it ended up right where she started. No matter what path she took, the path always led her to the beginning.

_The story of my life, _Ginny thought bitterly. No matter how hard she tried to make a difference, no matter what obstacles she overcame, she always ended up where she started. A poor teenage girl who got lost in the shadow of six older brothers. Just a _child_. Just Ginny.

She didn't know how long she sat there, wallowing in her own pathetic and self-pitying thoughts, but suddenly, the back door creaked open and Ginny jumped up, wand ready in her hand; a precaution habit from the rough times she had grown up with and could not help but put into practice, even though the threat was no longer there.

Surprised, a tired looking Harry raised his hands in a sign of surrender and took a step backward. "I'm innocent, I promise."

Ginny relaxed, lowered her wand, and sat back down. "Where were you?"

Harry dropped into the chair next to her, absolutely exhausted and drained of energy. "Ministry. Shacklebolt's got me working on statements to get the captured Death Eaters in Azkaban. He figured I knew better than anyone."

"Well, you do," Ginny replied.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry murmured, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the chair.

Ginny studied his face. It was covered in cuts and bruises, just another reminder of the hell they had gone through to get here. There was a particularly red and angry gash that ran down the left side of his face. She touched in gently. "You should get that looked at."

Harry rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. "It's not that bad. And the Healers have got enough on their plate right now."

"Show it to my mum, at least," Ginny insisted.

Harry opened one green eye and studied her critically. "What's with this sudden care for my wellbeing?"

Ginny poked him in the shoulder. "I like it when you're alive, git."

"That's the sweetest thing someone's said to me all day. What's the real reason you're so concerned?"

Ginny hesitated. Should she say it? Harry would be understanding, right? After all, this was _Harry_ she was talking about. "Be—because I still love you."

Harry didn't say anything for a while, and Ginny started cursing herself. Why did she say that? He just saved the bloody world, has had barely four hours of sleep all week, and here she's telling him she _loves_ him when he obviously doesn't love her! He's got enough on his plate without worrying about her and her trivial problems. And why would they even have time for a relationship? In the five minutes they were together each day? Oh, Merlin, say goodbye to the love of her life. Harry probably hated her now! And did she take the time to broaden her horizon and meet more boys? No! So now she's probably going to be single for her entire life, and—

"I love you, too," Harry said. He hadn't changed position or even opened his eyes, so Ginny wasn't sure if she had heard what she'd hoped she heard.

"What did you say?" Ginny asked, hardly daring to breathe.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up. "I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley. And you know it's true, because I pulled the middle name card."

Ginny felt so happy she was lightheaded. So many thoughts rushed through her mind, but she only managed to say, "You remembered that? The 'middle name card'?"

Harry laughed. "That day by the lake? Yes."

Ginny grinned. She couldn't voice the absolute relief and happiness she was feeling right then, but she had a feeling Harry knew. Harry was like that, and Ginny loved it.

"So, er, are you finished saving the world and all that?" Ginny asked warily.

"I believe I am," Harry replied.

"No more psychotic, power-hungry wizards after you?"

"I think not."

"And you love me?"

"Didn't we already cover this?"

Ginny couldn't stop grinning. "Okay, so say it."

Harry rubbed his face again. "Ginny, it's three o'clock in the morning and my brain is fried. You need to elaborate a bit."

"Ask me out, you git!"

"Ginny, will you go out with me?" Harry said dramatically. For three o'clock in the morning, Harry was being a good sport.

"How kind of you to ask, Harry! Of course I will!" Ginny answered ecstatically .

Harry glanced slyly at her. "Remember that day at the lake?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Forgive me?"

Ginny laughed again. "Oh, Harry. You have to do better than saving the world and asking me out to get my forgiveness."

Harry rolled his eyes and kissed her on the forehead.

Ginny looked back at the table and the ever-circulating path of the grain. Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad. Because it was also the story of Harry and Ginny's life. They started together, and together, they went through all the squiggles and loops, or obstacles, of life. But they always ended up where they started. Together.

**A/N: There you go! Let me let you in on a little math equation: Reviews= Happy Spiderwoman; Happy Spiderwoman= faster updates; Faster updates= Happy you! It's a win-win situation! So drop me a comment…how'd I do?**


	3. September 1st

**A/N: I am so happy with all of the positive feedback for this story! I'm sorry the updates sort of everywhere at this point (homework and track are getting in the way), but they should become more regular soon. Plus, it's spring break (thank goodness), and as I'm not going anywhere, I should get a lot posted throughout this week! So hurrah for that! Story time!**

**Disclaimer: I'm feeling rather uncreative, so I don't own.**

"So, they're opening Hogwarts again this September, according to plan," Mrs. Weasley remarked one evening as she and Ginny peeled potatoes for that night's dinner. "Careful, dear, don't squash them."

"That's what Harry said," Ginny replied, cutting a little less vivaciously. "He said McGonagall's really pleased."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at the mention of Harry's name, but turned under the pretense of dropping potatoes into the boiling pot so her daughter didn't see her face.

"Is Harry going to be here for dinner?" Mrs. Weasley asked, trying to open up a conversation about Ginny's love life inconspicuously.

"Maybe," Ginny answered, waltzing over to the pot and dropping her potatoes in, causing the boiling water to splash up and Mrs. Weasley to gasp involuntarily. For a girl who could turn into a coordinated fighter in the blink of an eye, Ginny did nearly cause Mrs. Weasley many heart failures with her eccentric movements.

"So," Mrs. Weasley prompted. "What's the story with you and Harry these days?"

Ginny paused with her knife hovering above her potato. Then, catching Mrs. Weasley completely by surprise, Ginny rolled her eyes and laughed. "Oh, Mum. You're funny when you try to learn about my social life."

Mrs. Weasley frowned and turned around to face her daughter who had resumed peeling her potato, still chuckling. "Excuse me?"

Ginny beamed. "You like to know about all my relationships. Don't you think I've noticed by now? It's only been about sixteen, almost seventeen years that I've lived with you."

Mrs. Weasley huffed in annoyance. "Answer the question, Ginny."

"Harry and I are going out," Ginny said, and Mrs. Weasley had never seen her daughter's face so alight with happiness. Not for the first time, Mrs. Weasley felt a huge rush of gratitude toward Harry, for making Ginny so utterly happy.

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said, and she meant it.

Then Ginny frowned petulantly. "But I'm worried what will happen when I go back to school," she admitted.

"It'll be fine," Mrs. Weasley assured her. "You'll have plenty of time between classes and such."

Ginny stared morosely down at her potato, and Mrs. Weasley was fairly certain it wasn't because the vegetable did anything wrong. "What is it, dear?"

"I don't think—I don't think Harry's _going_ back to Hogwarts," Ginny said softly.

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows shot up. "Of course he is," she answered, shaking her head as though to get rid of the absurdity of the idea. "He was traipsing around the world last year, and even if he had gone to school, he would have been under the rule of the Carrows. Merlin knows no _beneficial_ learning was going on last year. Professor McGonagall's set up a whole new learning program specifically for the kids that were supposed to graduate."

Ginny had been shaking her head through Mrs. Weasley's entire rant. "No. No, Mum. I don't think Harry can go back to Hogwarts."

"Don't be silly. Harry can go back to Hogwarts the same as you can—"

"It's not the same as me!" Ginny shouted, effectively silencing her mother. "Look, Mum. When has Harry ever had a happy school year? When has he actually devoted his time to just learning and studying like the rest of us? This battle we had at Hogwarts was the last straw. He can't go back to the castle that holds so many reminders of what we've been through. He just can't!"

Mrs. Weasley was stunned. Not only by how easy it was for Ginny to slip into Harry's mind (she knew Harry didn't share what was going on in his head with anyone, not even Ginny), but also by how accurate Ginny's statement was.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, slicing their potatoes perhaps a little too viciously.

It was a long time before Mrs. Weasley broke the silence that was becoming deafening. "I hope you know that you are going back to Hogwarts, no matter what."

It was a statement, not a question. The words seemed polite and civil enough, but Ginny could hear her mother's firm and unmoving undertone.

Ginny gulped and nodded.

X.x.X.x.X

Several days later, Harry thundered down the stairs of the Burrow, Ron at his heels. Their combined footsteps made a ruckus so loud that Mrs. Weasley jumped from her perch on the sofa, where she was reading a book.

The boys seemed to be talking about Quidditch. _But of course_, Mrs. Weasley thought. _Boys and their Quidditch._

Ron leaned in and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "Morning, Mum."

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry piped up.

Mrs. Weasley struggled to a standing position. "What do you boys want for breakfast?"

Ron shrugged. "What did you make?"

Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen and went to the stove, where sausages and eggs were piled on plates on the counter. "Sausage and eggs," she said unnecessarily. "Is that good with you?" She couldn't explain it, but since Fred died, Mrs. Weasley was out to please her kids.

"Perfect," Ron said eagerly, grabbing a plate and fork and plopping down at the table. He wasted no time shoving food into his mouth and chewing happily. "Dis is great, Mum."

Harry, thankfully, was a little more civil in the consumption of his food. Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes at her son's behaviour and turned back to the stove. "I've got a bone to pick with you two," she said over her shoulder. "Harry especially."

"Aw, mate. What did you do now?" she heard Ron say. There was a muffled thump and an indignant "Ow!" and Mrs. Weasley could safely assume that Harry smacked his friend's arm in annoyance. Mrs. Weasley couldn't say she completely blamed him.

"What's wrong, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.

"Ginny was saying—"

Ron snorted. "Oh-ho-ho! You're in trouble now Potter! What'd you do to my sister?"

Mrs. Weasley turned around as Harry smacked Ron's shoulder again. "Merlin, Ron," Harry grumbled, "You know it's all I can do not to hex you to oblivion right now, right?"

He turned back to Mrs. Weasley, his face the epitome of innocence. "Carry on."

"Right," Mrs. Weasley said faintly. "Anyway, Harry, Ginny was saying how you weren't going back to Hogwarts this September. Is that true?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose that's true."

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Any particular reason?"

"I can't go back, if that makes any sense," Harry answered, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth.

Mrs. Weasley's heart almost broke to see this teenager—a teenager!—who had gone through—and lost—so much. And here he was today, scarred both emotionally and physically, with such a burden on his shoulders, though the immediate danger was gone. Mrs. Weasley suddenly understood what he was saying about not being able to go back to Hogwarts.

"Of course I do. I understand."

Harry looked up, surprised, and smiled at her. The first smile Mrs. Weasley had seen on his face for days.

Ron, cheeks still bulging, looked between the two of them, confused. "Hold on. You're letting him skive off his last year? No arguments? What about when you practically tied us down when we were off hunting—" A look from Harry silenced him. They still hadn't told the world what they had been doing when they had disappeared for about nine months. Mrs. Weasley wasn't sure they were ever going to tell.

"I did not tie you down," Mrs. Weasley said crossly. In a softer voice she added, "It's your decision, Ron. Choose what you want to do."

Ron glanced at Harry. Mrs. Weasley had a vague suspicion that they had talked about this before. "I'm not going either, then," he told her firmly.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, and although her whole being screamed that it was wrong, that they needed to complete their education, she willed herself not to say anything. This was their choice. They weren't her little boys anymore.

X.x.X.x.X

The day of September first dawned bright and early.

Much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay, the total chaos that normally came on that day had decided not to break the tradition now. The Burrow was absolute pandemonium.

"Ginny! Where are my socks?" Hermione shouted, running down the stairs, one hand holding her trainers, the other hugging a squirming Crookshanks to her chest.

"I don't know!" Ginny yelled back, appearing at the top of the stairs, drying her wet hair with a towel. "Did you try your feet?"

"Oh, very helpful!" Hermione yelled sarcastically. "If only I'd thought to check on my—" She stopped, glancing down and seeing that her socks were indeed on her feet. "Oh. Never mind!"

Ginny smirked and disappeared back into the room.

Mrs. Weasley bustled from room to room, putting laundry on the beds for packing and shouting commands over her shoulder. "Ron! George! Put the trunks into the car!"

"The cars haven't shown up yet, Mum!" Ron yelled back from somewhere downstairs.

"Merlin, help us," Mrs. Weasley prayed as she tucked some school books that had managed to migrate from Ginny's room to the kitchen back in their rightful place.

Harry was wisely staying out of the way, only entering the fray if Mrs. Weasley gave him a specific order. Ron realized the intelligence behind this plan when Hermione dropped her trunk on his toe and started screaming at him for being in the way. He joined Harry on the sofa.

"Merlin, I hate September first," Ron sighed, collapsing next to Harry. "But it's weird, isn't it? Hermione and Ginny getting on the train and you and me not?"

"I'll skip over your horrendous grammatical errors and agree with you," Harry said. "Though I suppose we technically shouldn't be going back anyway."

Ron waved his hand impatiently. "Your technicalities won't get you anywhere in life."

"Ron! George! Harry! The cars are here! Load the trunks on!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked frantically over Hermione and Ginny yelling for their various possessions.

"Remind me never to have any children," Ron grumbled as Harry helped him up. "This is much too chaotic for a bloke to handle."

They went to the door and saw two Ministry cars parked out front. Mr. Weasley had gotten consent to use them, complete with chauffeurs, by just saying: "I need to drive my family, us _Weasleys_, and _Hermione Granger_, and _Harry Potter_ to Kings' Cross on September first. Do you know, perhaps, where I could find a ride?"

Harry shoved Hermione's trunk into the magically-enlarged car. Hermione, after hours of fretful agonizing, had decided to return to Hogwarts in the end to ensure her future.

"The girl's bloody brilliant, the smartest of us all, and she's worried about her future. Merlin, she confuses me," Ron had grumbled when Hermione had told them her decision.

Harry had laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "And she's all yours. Good luck, mate."

Ginny came out of the Burrow then, disrupting Harry's thoughts and scaring away all of the chickens that were pecking their way across the yard. "Harry!"

"Yes?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You might want to get in the car. Mum's tolerance is completely gone. She might explode or something," Ginny said, looking back at the house nervously, as though Mrs. Weasley would appear any second.

"You speak words of wisdom, Miss Weasley."

"I know that."

But before they could hide in the cars, a very flustered Mrs. Weasley barreled out of the door, herding the rest of her children plus Hermione out as well. "In the car! Car! We're going to be late! George, Percy, Ginny, get in the car in to the left. Rest of you in the other car! Come on, hurry up."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione piled into the other car and Mrs. Weasley, looking quite harried, collapsed into the front seat. She waved at the driver to go and said, "Go! Drive! We're going be late!"

The driver, apparently not wanting to be on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's wrath, started the engine and drove like a maniac to Kings' Cross. Hermione was looking significantly greener by the time the car stopped and Mrs. Weasley threw open the doors and ushered them out.

They burst through the brick barrier and met up with the other half of their party almost immediately.

"Potter!" Ginny called from next to the train, her trunk lying next to her. "Help me get this trunk on the train!"

Harry went over to his girlfriend, and through their combined efforts, managed to get the trunk onto the train. He tried to ignore the whispers and pointed fingers as he stepped back onto the platform.

"So," Ginny said awkwardly over the din of the platform. "This is goodbye until Christmas, I suppose?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied. He didn't try to voice how much he was going to miss her, and how he would think about her every day. He was fairly certain Ginny already knew.

Ginny threw her arms around him. "I'm going to miss you, Harry."

"I'll miss you, too."

She kissed him on the cheek, and with one final wave, boarded the train.

Then Harry remembered something. "Hey. Hey! Ginny!"

Ginny leaned out the window. "Yeah?"

"We're going to be apart for a while, and don't you think we should sort something out right now, before you leave for almost four months?"

Ginny grinned. "What?"

Harry smiled back. "Forgive me? For old times' sake?"

Ginny laughed. "You wish, Potter."

Then she kissed him on the forehead, and the train began to move. It wasn't long until it had turned the bend and disappeared from view, and Harry was left alone, still smiling.

**A/N: Aaaaaand end scene! *clap clap clap*. Truthfully, I don't like this one as much…I might rewrite it in the future…but for now, tell me what you think! There's a button down there…It's called 'Review'. Press it and behold a land of wonders. For me at least.**


	4. Letters

_September 3__rd__, 1998_

_ Dear Harry, _

_ I got here all right. Classes started today…We had DADA, Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions. DADA was with a bloke called Professor Goodman. He's okay, __much __better than some of the__ other__ teachers we've had. Care of Magical Creatures was taught by Hagrid, of course, and the first thing he said to me was "How's Harry?" He's a sweet man, really. Potions was taught by Professor Westlake. According to an anonymous source (Lavender), Slughorn died from the shock of the war. I told her that you had just seen him, and he was very much alive, and she got all dreamy-eyed and started talking about how wonderful you were. You'd be happy to know that I resisted the urge to punch her._

_ How are things at home? Hermione's seriously depressed without you and Ron. She spends the whole day in the library, reading, studying, you name it._

_ Anyway, give everyone my love, and ask Mum if she could send me my blue jumper. Tell her I left it on the kitchen table._

_ Love, Ginny._

X.x.X.x.X

_September 4__th__, 1999_

_ Ginny-_

_ Interesting teachers. Slughorn decided to retire. After all, he's really old. You can tell that to Lavender. Also tell her that I'm your boyfriend. Good job with the non-violent tactics._

_ Tell Hermione to get out of the library. It's unhealthy. Dust inhalation and all that. Teach her to ride a broom, or something. If you are brave enough to teach her to ride a broom, send me some pictures. I'm sure that that will a good laugh._

_ Speaking of brooms, are you playing Quidditch? _

_ Anyway, your mum said she already sent it to you and for Merlin's sake, be a little more efficient._

_ Love, Harry._

_P.S. Forgive me?_

X.x.X.x.X

_September 6__th_

_ Harry-_

_ I made the team. I'm Chaser, of course. They wanted me to play Seeker, but I much prefer Chaser, to be honest. The Seeker is this bloke named Patrick Clove. Never heard of him before. Have you?_

_ I tried getting Hermione out of the library, I honestly did. Then she threatened to hex me, and I decided it was best to leave her alone._

_ Love, Ginny._

_P.S. No._

X.x.X.x.X

_September 11__th__,_

_ Ginny-_

_ That's great! Congratulations! And no, I don't remember a Patrick Clove._

_ Good try with Hermione._

_ -Harry_

_P.S. What about now?_

X.x.X.x.X

_September 17__th__,_

_ Harry-_

_ I won't forgive you._

_ -Ginny_

X.x.X.x.X

_September 21__st__,_

_Ginny-_

_Why not?_

_-Harry_

_P.S. Did Hermione get the birthday present I sent her?_

X.x.X.x.X

_September 25__th__,_

_ Harry- _

_ She got the present. You made her so happy. A book! Wow. You know just the thing for everyone._

_ I won't forgive you because if I do, I lose some leverage I have against you. Plus, this is kind of funny._

_-Ginny._

X.x.X.x.X

October 12th,

_Ginny-_

_Sorry about the lack of letters. It's really hectic over here. The Aurors caught a bunch of Death Eaters, and some people they thought might've confided in Voldemort when he was still around. I've had to testify against them all._

_ How are classes going? Hermione wrote me and said Hagrid's doing really well this year._

_ Picking out Hermione's present wasn't that hard. I went to Flourish and Blotts and asked them which books Hermione hadn't bought yet. There were only about a dozen. Plus, she loves Arithmacy._

_-Harry._

_P.S. Forgive me now?_

X.x.X.x.X

_November 1__st__,_

_Harry-_

_It's been busy around here, too. Lots of classes. That means lots of homework._

_They have a list of Hermione's purchases? That's…not right._

_We have a match tonight. Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor._

_-Ginny._

_P.S. That's a negative._

X.x.X.x.X

_November 5__th__,_

_ Ginny-_

_ Did you win?_

_-Harry_

_P.S. Forgive me?_

X.x.X.x.X

_November 21__st__,_

_Harry-_

_Yes we won. 260-120._

_-Ginny_

_P.S. No._

X.x.X.x.X

_November 30__th__,_

_ Ginny-_

_ Good job._

_-Harry._

_P.S. I'll make you forgive me someday._

X.x.X.x.X

_December 21__st__,_

_Harry-_

_Heading home now._

_-Ginny._

_P.S. 5 sickles say that by the end of the holidays, you still won't have my forgiveness._

X.x.X.x.X

When Ginny got on the train back to Hogwarts, she was five sickles richer, and a whole lot happier.

**A/N: Review! I don't like this one as much, but I needed something to bridge the gap between start of school to Christmas. I may or may not do a Christmas one. It depends if I'm feeling festive. Review please! Suggestions, criticism, whatever!**


	5. World War

**A/N: I want to thank all my reviewers so far (I just realized I haven't done that. I'm so ashamed *looks down sheepishly*). So the reviewers are *drumroll*: Nelly94, TwistedImaginings, kiwifan13, tribute324, Jannice Sace, BellaFlame, TheDeathlyHallows-123, and lilylucy. You guys are unbelievably awesome. And you make me smile with some of your reviews. Another round of applesauce goes to those who added this story to their favorites.**

**I'm so sorry of my recent absence. My spring break has been totally hectic, and this chapter is really long (more than 3,000 words). It took awhile to get the finer points worked out.**

**Disclaimer: I didn't disclaim last chapter, either. I'm slacking off a lot. Anyway, I disclaim not only this chapter, but last chapter too (just in case you thought I was JKR)**

Harry, Ron, Teddy, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing on Platform 9 ¾, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to come and drop off their loved ones for the Christmas holidays.

The weather was frigidly cold, and everyone was under multiple layers of clothing. Harry was holding a squirming Teddy, who had wanted to come for the sole purpose of seeing the "choo-choos". Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were on a bench nearby, talking quietly about Christmas dinner preparations.

It was getting late, and there still wasn't any sign of the Hogwarts Express. Ron was beginning to pace in anxiety, and his obvious discomfort was starting to rub off on Teddy, whose attention span was totally gone. "Harry, what if something bad happened? I mean, has the train ever been late before? What if—"

Harry broke through Ron's agitated tirade. "Ron, relax. You're getting Teddy nervous."

"But still…"

Then, at ten past twelve, when Ron was just about pulling out his hair in frustration, and Teddy was acting like he'd been given an espresso, the Hogwarts Express, in all its scarlet glory, barreled around the bend and squeaked to a stop at the platform.

Ron looked up excitedly, previous worriment totally dissipated. "This is going to be great!" he whispered in ecstasy.

Soon, the platform was crowded with noisy students. The previously quiet platform was transformed immediately into a frenzied crowd. Students hugged each other and wished each other good holidays. Kids were running up and down the platform trying to find their family members. It strongly resembled the Burrow four months ago, on September first.

"Where are they?" Ron asked, bouncing on his toes once more.

Teddy waved around his mitten which he had managed to take off and babbled happily. Harry nodded at his godson, though he had no idea what he was trying to say. "I think so, too, mate."

"I see them!" Ron announced.

Hermione and Ginny appeared. Hermione, predictably, had a thick book in hand. A blue scarf was wrapped around her neck. She was positively beaming at them. Ginny was donned in a Weasley jumper, a green scarf, and a knitted hat. She dragged her trunk behind her.

Hermione leapt into Ron's arms and began talking a mile a minute. "Oh, I'm _so_ glad to be back. Hogwarts was positively _boring_ without you two. Nothing _remotely_ exciting happened—"

"Of course nothing exciting happened to her," Ginny muttered in a low voice to Harry. "The most interesting thing that happens in the library is Pince going barmy over an overdue book."

Harry covered his snort with a cough.

Teddy was staring, awestruck, at the Hogwarts Express. "Choo!" he babbled happily.

Hermione smiled fondly at the little boy. "Why's he here?" she asked taking Teddy from Harry and tickling the former's stomach. "Hi Teddy! How are you?"

"Andromeda got the flu. She went to the Healers and got some potions, but she didn't want Teddy getting sick. Besides, he likes the trains." Harry tilted his head toward the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek. "I missed you," she said. Harry grinned.

Mrs. Weasley bustled over, Mr. Weasley not far behind. "It's nice to see you, girls," she said. "Now, do we have everything? We need to get out of this cold before we come down with the flu, like Andro—"

The rest of her sentence was interrupted by the arrival of Luna Lovegood, wearing her most "Luna-ish" attire: dirigible plum earrings, a very vibrant orange jumper with moving rabbits sewn into the fabric, and a purple skirt. Her father stood a few meters away, looking anywhere but Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"Hello," Luna said in that dreamy voice of hers. "I just wanted to wish you all a very happy holiday. I won't be seeing you for weeks."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "Hey, Luna, do you want to come to the Burrow for Christmas dinner? We're having a family celebration of sorts."

Luna smiled so wide Harry thought her face would split in half. "Oh, I'd love to! It was just going to be Daddy and me for Christmas. Now I'll have friends, too!"

Luna caught Ron staring at her outfit in confusion. "Do you like the orange jumper? It's supposed to repel Wrackspurts. They don't like bright colors, it hurts their eyes. And I love rabbits. I have to go now. I need to tell Daddy about our new plans."

With that she skipped away to her father.

"Luna's certainly a unique character, isn't she?" Ron said in amusement.

Mrs. Weasley had pursed her lips and crossed her arms disapprovingly. She was looking at Ginny. "Ginevra Weasley. You do _not_ go around inviting random people to our house for dinner without consulting me first! Have I taught you nothing?"

"It's not a random person, it's Luna! Well, I mean, her personality's random, but that's not the point. Didn't you see how happy she was to be with friends?" Ginny asked, waving vaguely towards the Luna, who was telling a not-so-enthusiastic Mr. Lovegood about their invitation to the Weasley's.

Mrs. Weasley sighed in obvious defeat. "Let's get these trunks in the car."

X.x.X.x.X

The next four days were a blur of decorating, cooking, and cleaning.

Mrs. Weasley had them on their feet all day, degnoming the garden, putting up the Christmas tree, and sorting through the attic for Christmas wreaths (not an easy task with the ghoul that resided in the attic).

Then, before Harry could think, it was Christmas.

The morning was spent unwrapping gifts from the immediate family and stuffing themselves with Mrs. Weasley's immaculate cooking.

Then, at about five, the Lovegoods showed up, bringing with them the smell of burnt cabbage. "It's Wibbler pudding," Luna told them, seriously (or as serious as Luna could get). "It's delicious. You won't be able to get enough."

"Bet I could," Ron muttered.

As they sat down for dinner, Harry found himself in between Luna and Bill. It was so crowded, it was difficult to maneuver his fork to his mouth without accidently elbowing someone. Luckily, Harry was pretty much used to mealtimes at the Weasley's, and managed fairly well.

Halfway through the meal, however, came the distinct tapping of an owl at the window. Mrs. Weasley excused herself from the table to retrieve the letter.

"Harry, dear, it's for you!" she called.

Harry went to meet Mrs. Weasley in the other room and was met with a letter addressed "Mr. H. Potter" thrust in his face. As he opened it, Mrs. Weasley left.

_ Harry—_

_ I'm sorry to bother you with this (and on Christmas no less), but we have been informed of the Malfoy family's whereabouts. They are now faced with a trial at the Ministry. Like the rest of the Death Eaters, they are most likely going to Azkaban, but to ensure that fact, it would be most kind of you to write up a brief statement of their past crimes._

_ Wishing you a happy Christmas,_

_ Kingsley Shacklebolt_

Harry stared at the letter for a few minutes, not really taking in the words. The Malfoys?

"Hey, Harry, what do you have?" Ron called from the other room.

"A letter," he shouted back.

"Your elaboration skills truly astound me," George replied sarcastically. It was the closest thing to a joke he had said since Fred died.

Harry went back to the table. "It's from the Ministry. Shacklebolt wants me to write another statement for some Death Eaters." He hoped to avoid talk about the Malfoys, but of course, he had the worst luck ever.

"Who?" Ginny asked absentmindedly as she buttered another roll for herself.

"The, ah, Malfoys," Harry said delicately.

"Caught them finally, eh?" Percy asked, dropping beans onto his plate with more force than necessary. "Good thing too. Lucius was right in there with Voldemort. And he was the one who gave Ginny the di—" he broke off when he caught sight of Ginny's murderous glare. "He's done some bad things," he finished lamely.

Harry stared down at his plate. He didn't want to join in with this conversation. His conscience was bothering him.

Luckily, the talk soon changed to teasing Ron about the Chudley Cannons' losing season.

X.x.X.x.X

"Ah! Harry. So nice to see you. Please sit." Kingsley Shacklebolt gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Got my letter, I gather? I really am sorry about disturbing your holidays."

They were in Shacklebolt's simply decorated office. There was only a desk, three chairs, and a mountain of papers and files. Harry sat down in one of the chairs. "It's fine," Harry said shortly. "I came to talk to you about the Malfoys, actually."

"Okay," Shacklebolt said, leaning forward on his desk. "Proceed."

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm not going to write a statement against them," he said firmly.

Shacklebolt raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I was under the impression you didn't exactly like the Malfoys. Lucius was a Death Eater, mind you. I thought you would be against them."

"I—Narcissa—she saved my life," Harry said hesitantly. He had never told that to anyone. It made him uncomfortable to tell Shacklebolt, an authority figure, when he hadn't even told his closest friends.

"She saved your life?" Shacklebolt repeated uncertainly. He sat back. "Well, you don't have to write the statement, then. It was your choice to begin with."

Harry drummed his fingers on his knee nervously. "I—I was thinking…Maybe I would go as far as…testifying on behalf of the Malfoys."

Shacklebolt looked very surprised. "Testify—Malfoys…Why?"

"I feel like I—owe it to them," Harry said softly. He didn't exactly know how to explain it. After all, it was Draco Malfoy who made a lot of his adolescence so very detestable. He hadn't even told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what he was doing right now. They would probably question his sanity at the very least when they found out. But it was just something he had to do.

Shacklebolt nodded slowly. "Why you want to is beyond me, but I'll try to understand, I suppose. If you are absolutely sure you want to, you can talk to the Malfoys and arrange it with them."

Harry nodded. "That would be great, thanks."

"Would you like to talk to them today? Their trial has been taking a while to finalize, so they are being held in custody right now. It would only be about twenty minutes."

Harry nodded again.

Shacklebolt surveyed him silently with a half smile on his lips. "You never cease to amaze me, Potter," he said, shaking his head.

X.x.X.x.X

Draco Malfoy was brought into the room. The guard on his right said, "If he's any trouble, call us in." He let that threat hang in the air, then left silently.

Malfoy stood staring at him for a long time. "Come to save the day one last time, Potter?" But his voice didn't hold the contempt it usually did.

"I reckon so," Harry replied.

Malfoy sat down in the seat across from Harry's. "Why are you helping us?" he asked in a very tired voice.

"Don't you want me to help you? If I don't, you're going to Azkaban, no question."

Malfoy rubbed his face, looking very tired. "You and I hated each other back in school. My father gave Ginny Weasley that possessed diary. It was at my house you were held hostage, and Granger tortured. We've made each other's lives hell for years. Why would you want to help me? You're the savior, I'm now looked at with disgust."

Harry tapped his fingers on his knee. "You didn't give us away at your manor that one night—"

"Oh, yes, and my façade fooled everyone," Malfoy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And I saved you in the Room of Requirement—"

"After we put your life in danger and made it so we needed saving in the first place," Malfoy intervened again. "Don't you see, Potter? We will never be able to be civil to each other."

"Because we've never tried. Back in our second year, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, do you know who I immediately thought was Slytherin's heir? You. I didn't even stop to think how irrational that was. We always blame each other for everything. But we can stop this now. We've lived through war, Malfoy. I think we can be civil to each other now. Now do you want my help or not?"

Malfoy looked down at his knee. "Sure."

X.x.X.x.X

"_You did what?_" they heard Ginny screech.

Ron looked at Hermione, alarmed, "Oh no. Mad Ginny. This won't end well."

Having lived with her and her temper for more than sixteen years, all of the Weasleys promptly took cover, left the room, etc.

Ginny entered the room where Ron and Hermione were sitting. A stony-faced Harry followed her. "You have got to be kidding me!" she cried.

Ron took Hermione by the hand and they hid behind the couch so they would have at least a little protection.

"Ginny," Harry said shortly. "This doesn't really concern you."

"It does too concern me! You are my boyfriend, and doing that is just _mad_!" Ginny shouted.

"Oh, and I haven't done mad things in _my_ lifetime!" Harry said sarcastically. "I have to do this, Ginny."

Ron looked at Hermione in confusion. He mouthed, "What?" to which Hermione just shrugged.

"You don't owe them _anything_!" Ginny was shouting. "You are just too noble!"

Harry didn't shout—he rarely did—but somehow the softness of his voice was a thousand times worse. "This isn't your decision, Ginny."

"It doesn't matter! I'm not letting you!"

"I have to Ginny," Harry said, his voice still dangerously calm. Ginny might have been the only person able to continue fighting with him when he was like this. Everyone else would have run away in fright by now, Gryffindor or no.

Feeling it was time to intervene, lest Ginny Bat-Bogey his best friend to oblivion, Ron popped up from behind the couch like a spastic puppet. "Okay, let's walk away from each other now," he called to the two. They were too busy staring daggers at each other, though, and paid him no heed.

"Hermione, help me!" he hissed.

Hermione sighed and stood up. She went over to Ginny and took her by the shoulders. "Let's walk away now, Ginny."

Not taking her murderous gaze off Harry, Ginny swatted at Hermione's hands. "Get off me."

"No—Ginny!"

Hermione shoved her, none too gently, onto the couch, effectively shifting her glare away from Harry. On the downside, the glare rested upon Hermione instead.

"What are you two on about?" Ron asked warily, glancing from his best friend to his sister.

"This _git's_ too noble for his own good!" Ginny snapped, jerking her head at Harry.

Still confused, Ron looked at Harry with raised eyebrows for an explanation instead.

"I agreed to testify on behalf of the Malfoys," Harry said finally, glaring defiantly at Ron as though daring him to contradict.

Ron gaped at him. "Malfoy? As is in Draco Malfoy?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, the other Malfoy family we know."

"But Harry," Hermione said, the look on her face showing how confused she was (Hermione did not like being confused at all), "I thought you hated Malfoy."

"Narcissa saved my life," Harry said shortly.

"You say that about everyone," Ginny said crossly.

"No!" Harry snapped, temper flaring up once more. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for her! In the forest, Voldemort 'killed' me and told Narcissa to make sure I was dead. If she hadn't told him I was dead, he would've cast the Killing Curse again. And then I really would've died."

The other three just stared at him in shock. "Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly.

"I'm going to testify for them, and that's that," Harry finished quietly. He hated the pitying looks they were giving him. He turned at started back up the stairs to Ron's room.

Once he was gone, Ron exchanged shocked glances with Ginny and Hermione. "Did he tell you two that before?" They both shook their heads.

"You really should apologize to him, Ginny," Hermione told her friend uncertainly.

Ginny sighed and looked down at her folded hands. "I know I should. But I'm too proud."

Ron sat down heavily on the couch next to Ginny. "I know," he said. "But it really is his choice if he testifies for or against the Malfoys. But if you think about it, Draco's really changed. He didn't give us away at his manor, Hermione, remember?"

"I don't suffer from short-term memory loss, Ron. I think I can remember back a couple months ago," Hermione replied crossly. Expression softening, she added, "I think we should go too, Ron. Offer him support. I mean, it's pretty obvious that he doesn't want to go back to court. He hasn't had happy experiences there."

"I suppose we ought to," Ron said glumly. He turned to Ginny. "Go apologize to him, Ginny. It might hurt your pride in your eyes, but it also makes you a stronger person."

"When did you turn into such a philosophical genius?" Ginny asked lightly.

"Being with Hermione does that to you," Ron said, cracking a smile. "Plus, you and Harry are terrifying when you fight. They say me and Hermione are bad, but with you two it's like a World War. Luckily, you don't fight _too_ much."

Ginny playfully shoved him off the couch. "Watch it, big brother."

Then, swallowing her pride, she went up the stairs to find Harry.

X.x.X.x.X

She found him in Ron's room, idly changing Ron's sickeningly orange Chudley Cannons posters different colors.

She sat down beside him on the bed and did say anything for awhile. Harry barely acknowledged her presence.

"I like the posters purple," she said finally, when Harry turned the pictures a violent shade of violet.

Harry turned his head slightly to look at her for a few seconds. Then he went back to flicking his wand without a word.

Ginny took a deep breath and turned to fully face him. "Listen, Harry," she said. "I'm sorry, okay? It really wasn't my right to decide what you should do. Forgive me?"

Harry was silent for a few moments. Ginny half thought he didn't hear her. Then he said, "This isn't normal. Ginny Weasley, saying sorry? Did Ron hex you or something?"She didn't reply, so he went on. "I know you can't help it, Ginny. I'm sorry I lost my temper. But really, how long have you known me? But _you_ also know that _I_ can't help being a 'noble git' as you say. But it's kind of nice to have someone care so much about me. I suppose I'm just not used to it. I forgive you. Will you forgive me?"

"Not a chance," Ginny replied, laughing.

"Oh, good," Harry said, cracking a smile. "She's back to normal. Thank God, I was getting worried."

Ginny smiled and they hugged, all problems solved.

**A/N: Again, I'm terribly sorry about my procrastination these past few days. Review anyway? So I know all is forgiven?**


	6. Snow

**A/N: I'm becoming quite the procrastinator, aren't I? Anyway, here it is. I decided to just skip a couple years because last time I tried to bridge a gap in time, I failed miserably. *sheepish grin*. Oh well. Can't be good at everything.**

**Let's applaud the newest members of the reviewing ranks: WaulkingToaster (nice penname, by the way. Very creative), and 3I1n0r.**

**Right, so. Remember how I said that I was a complete and utter failure at romance? Yeah, well, that hasn't miraculously changed since the last time I updated. Bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: Ich verzichte auf. (That's German for "I disclaim", or so says Google Translator.)**

Right when Ginny walked from the snowstorm outside and into the warm and welcoming Burrow, she knew something was going on.

She had just finished a particularly long and cold Quidditch practice with the Holyhead Harpies. Her coach, Gwenog Jones, had run—er, _flew_—them extremely hard today because of the upcoming game against the Tornadoes. The Tornadoes had recently gotten a new Seeker, who had practically won all their first games by herself. Since Ginny had joined the Harpies, she knew one thing for certain: that Jones would do anything to win, even extremes like, ahem, practically killing her own players.

Ginny shut the door and threw down her coat. "I'm home!" she hollered. But instead of the usual clamor that made up the Burrow, she was greeted with absolute silence. "Hello?" she called uncertainly. Still, no reply.

Ginny frowned, put her coat on the hook, and—immediately assuming the worst—wrapped her hand protectively around her wand and walked into the living room warily.

The sight that greeted her was not something abnormal. Her whole family—George, Angelina, Hermione, Bill and Fleur with baby Victoire, Percy, Audrey, her parents, Teddy, Ron, and Harry (who were both home from Auror training)—was there. They were all sprawled out on the couches and on the floor by the fire in typical Weasley fashion. George and Ron had a chessboard set up on the rug. Victoire was in Mr. Weasley's lap in the big armchair and he was holding a model airplane for her to examine with him. Mrs. Weasley had out her knitting needles and her overflowing basket of yarn. This scene was, as earlier mentioned, normal enough.

But while the scene looked ordinary enough, there were some things that absolutely were _not_ right. Like the fact that while George was holding a rook in mid-move, he was just staring at Ginny, not even noticing the airborne figure. Mrs. Weasley knitting needles were not clacking away like custom, but quite stationary. And though Angelina, Audrey, and Fleur had gathered in what the family had affectionately christened the "gossip circle" on the couch, no gossip was being exchanged. The whole family, in fact, was just frozen and staring at her, like she had walked in on them talking about her.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked suspiciously. Now that she knew her family hadn't gotten kidnapped by Death Eaters or the likes, she straightened up and unclenched her fist from around her wand.

Her mother tittered nervously. "Going on? Nothing's going on."

As if on cue, everyone stole a glance at Harry.

Ginny walked fully into the room. "No, something's going on. Why aren't you talking?"

"We were, Ginny," Angelina replied honestly from her perch on the couch. "But then, you know, _you_ came in."

Ginny raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And just what, may I ask, is so important that you can't tell me about it? Did something happen? Is everyone okay? Tell me—"

Everyone looked at Harry again. Harry didn't seem to notice. He was too busy looking into the fire with a thoughtful expression. Only Harry could find some deep and philosophical information in a hunk of logs.

"Everyone's fine, Ginny," her mother told her finally. "It's just—"

"Is this about me being too young again? 'Cause if it is..."

Percy rolled his eyes in good nature. "Still on about that, are you?"

Ginny practically stamped her foot in frustration. Why weren't they talking to her? What had happened that she didn't know about? If there was one thing Ginny prided herself on, it was the fact that she knew absolutely everything that was happening within her family. And quite a bit outside of her family, too. "Merlin's pants, people! Tell me what's going on, or so-help-me—"

"Let's go for a walk, Ginny," Harry said suddenly. The statement so surprised her that she broke off mid-rant.

"Excuse me?"

"Walk. You know…go outside… then start, you know, _walking_."

Ginny huffed in exasperation. Not him, too! "I _know_ what a walk is, you prat. But _why_?"

Harry shrugged. "I can't take a walk with you once and a while? Do you not _want_ to go on a walk with me?"

"It's freezing outside!"

"Are you telling me that Ginny Weasley, who survived growing up with her brothers, her sixth year at Hogwarts, and the _Battle_ of Hogwarts, is finally brought to her knees by a little snow?" Harry asked, pretending to be incredulous.

"Fine, you prat! I'll go with you on your _walk_!"

Harry grinned and led her outside. As the door was closing, Ginny could hear her family whispering excitedly to each other once more. Ginny rolled her eyes. This walk was probably an excuse to get her out of earshot of her family's conversation. Ginny couldn't think of what would be so incredibly important.

They walked in silence for a long time. Harry extended his palm and let a snowflake land on it. It melted when it came in contact with his warm skin.

"I love snow," Ginny sighed happily. She stared up at the swirling snowflakes.

"Me too," Harry agreed quietly. More silence

Ginny twirled around in the drifting snowflakes. "Snow makes the world so…_clean_."

Harry nodded. "It's hard to make this world clean anymore," he said bitterly, thrusting his hand deep into his pocket.

"War does that," Ginny said sadly. "It taints the earth's beauty. It's so worthless, when you think about it. War, I mean."

Harry regarded her with a curious expression. "You really understand me."

Ginny shrugged, not sure if it was a compliment or just merely an observation. "I would think so. You _are_ my boyfriend, after all. And we've lived through a lot of the same things. The war, namely," she said. Then she added, "You know what? You understand me, too. It's almost scary how much we think alike. It's almost like we were—" she stopped herself, realizing how corny she would sound. _Think before you speak_, she chided herself.

"Made for each other," Harry finished for her anyway, proving her point even farther. Somehow, it didn't seem corny at all when he said it.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed quietly. "I think we are made for each other." She took his hand, tracing the scars with her thumb.

Then he pulled away and Ginny looked at him with confusion.

Only he wasn't there. He was down on one knee and had a beautiful diamond ring in a box that was held in his hand. She clapped a hand to her mouth in surprise.

"Care to test that theory?" he asked with an impish grin.

Ginny, luckily, got over her surprise rather quickly and threw her arms around his neck, knocking them both back into the snow. Both laughing and crying hysterically, she said, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

Harry laughed along with her and slid the ring onto her finger.

Then the lights flickered to life on the porch, and her whole family was illuminated. They were hanging over the railing, wolf-whistling and laughing. Mrs. Weasley was openly sobbing at the sentimental value Harry's proposal had provided.

Ginny realized that her family had all been in on Harry's plan to propose to her. That's why they were acting so strangely. Damn prats. They made her think something was wrong!

"You can't possibly hold it over me now," Harry murmured in her ear as they lay side-by-side in the snow.

Ginny studied her ring. It truly was beautiful, simple, yet elegant, and it was exhilarating beyond belief just seeing it on her finger. _Take that, Bill! You said I would never marry Harry Potter!_ "Hold what over you?" she asked softly, gazing up into his beautiful emerald eyes.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked simply.

"Not a chance," she replied before kissing him deeply.

**A/N: So, utter fail? Auszusprechen scheitern? (Google translator says that that means "utter fail". Huh. Who woulda thunk?) Tell me what you think. How to do that, you say? Just press that button! Go on. You know you want to.**


	7. Wedding

"I'm hot, and tired, and hungry, and I really hate you right now, Harry," Ron moaned as he stood by Harry at the altar. "I hate you."

"Your support of me is inspiring," Harry said dryly. "Go whine to someone else."

Ron turned away. "Bill—"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to survey the crowd assembled at under the canopy on the Burrow's lawn. Wanting to stick to tradition, Ginny had made sure the wedding would be held here.

The day was June 23rd. It was a beautiful day, with blue skies and lush grass. It was Harry and Ginny's wedding day.

Despite the utmost secrecy of whole affair, all of wizarding Britain knew of the wedding that was to take place today. Fleur, who had refused to be in the wedding because of her pregnancy ("How can I be een a wedding ween I look like a heeppopotamus?"), made use of her time by chasing uninvited visitors from crashing the wedding. It's amazing what an angry Frenchwoman can get accomplished.

"About to start, Harry," Charlie said in Harry's ear, making him jump. "It's not too late, you know."

"To do what?" Harry asked warily.

"Lock my mum in the shed. You know this wedding is going to go down _her_ way, or else," Charlie muttered. "This is why I'm not getting married in the near future. Maybe never. I've got my dragons, after all."

"We aren't locking your mum in the shed," Harry said. Then, because he couldn't help himself, added, "Though that would be funny…"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the music. Charlie disappeared as quickly and quietly as he had come. Ron assumed his position next to Harry as Harry's best man, and promptly began muttering about the unjustness of it all.

Teddy walked down the aisle as the ring bearer, making faces at Victoire who was clinging to his arm nervously as she dumped the whole basket of flowers on the ground in one go. It was her first time being flower girl…she needed a bit of practice.

The bridesmaids came down on the arm of the groomsmen, their dresses all a navy blue

The music changed. Everyone stood up, looking for a glimpse of the bride.

And there she was. Ginny, in a beautiful, yet simple, white dress. Her hair was pinned back, and fell in soft red curls around her shoulders. Her face was outlined with hardly any makeup, but it made her even more beautiful.

Next to her, Mr. Weasley bounced on his toes all the way down the aisle. When they got to the end, he kissed her on the cheek, and went to sit next to an already-sobbing Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny gave Harry a long look. "Not looking too bad, Potter," she whispered as the priest began talking.

"You're not looking to shabby yourself," Harry replied softly. He smiled. "You look beautiful."

Ginny grinned. "Oh, good."

"Harry—"

"Oh, in the name of Merlin's saggy—_What, Ron_?" Hermione, from her place as maid of honor, snorted softly at Harry's annoyed expression.

"I'm _hungry_!"

"What are you, five?"

"But Haaaaarry!"

Harry rolled his eyes, thrust his hand in pocket, and put a chocolate frog in Ron's hand. "Now, _shut_ _up_."

"Should I be worried that you keep an emergency chocolate frog stash in your pocket?" Ginny asked as Ron attempted to eat the frog without his mother noticing.

"I've been friends with this git for over thirteen years," Harry reminded her. "You need to be prepared to babysit him. As his sister, you should know that."

Ginny rolled her eyes as Harry tuned into the priest once more. "—until death do you part?" the wizard asked, looking at Harry.

Harry suddenly realized that he had missed most of the ceremony, and that that was his cue. "I do," he said quickly.

The priest repeated the words to Ginny, who answered very firmly, "I do."

"Then I declare you bonded for life," the wizard said. He shut his book with a snap. "You may kiss the bride."

Harry bent down and kissed Ginny with a sense of wonder. He was alive, not dead at the hands of Voldemort. He had a real family now. He wasn't the scared little boy who was chased down relentlessly by death.

They broke apart after a second, and the crowd broke out in cheers and applause.

Ginny stared up at him in wonderment. "Well. That was…nice."

"Ditto," Harry said. He looked down at his new wife, and murmured in her ear, "Forgive me, by chance? I don't know if I can top this."

"Well, you'd better start trying," Ginny said, grinning. "C'mon."

Harry beamed, and together, they started their new life.

**A/N: Holy cow that was terrible. Short and terrible. I apologize for everything. The wait, the short-lived awfulness, etc. I have this awful case of writer's block, I rewrote this a bajillion times, and I really don't go to weddings (except my cousin's, but that wasn't much of a guideline because I don't think most weddings involve an abundance of giggling and—just ugh. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.). I promise the next chapter will be longer and MUCH better, but this was necessary. Don't hurt me!**

**I'm not even going to bother to disclaim this. It's so obviously not JKR's it's not even funny.**


	8. The Beans of Sentimentality

Harry laid his head on the kitchen table with a sigh.

Ginny glanced at him over the top of her cookbook. "Alright there, Harry?"

Harry just groaned in response.

Ginny sighed and went back to her recipes. "Tough day at the department?"

Without lifting his head, Harry muttered, "Sixteen bloody days trailing Greyback's gang, and they keep slipping away. Dilmore's just about hexing us every time something goes wrong. This whole mission is completely botched, but they won't let us drop it. They're making us work extra hours to resolve the whole thing, on top of a 'specially designed training program' because of our less-than-stellar work these past weeks." Harry finally lifted his head and eyed Ginny wearily. "They're sending us on a two-week mission—maybe longer—in six days."

Ginny grimaced. "Two weeks? Why now?"

"To hell if I know," Harry grumbled.

Ginny gazed at him sympathetically. "You really do have the worst luck, don't you?"

"What did I do to deserve it?" Harry moaned, face on the wood once more.

Ginny went back to reading the recipes. There was going to be a big birthday celebration at the Burrow for Dominique's second birthday, and each family had to make a dish. Ginny was stuck with being in charge of the casserole, and was having a difficult time finding a casserole that didn't look like troll bogeys. "Harry, did you get the vegetables from the store like I asked?"

Harry groaned. "Damn, I forgot."

"Harry, the party's tomorrow! Those big bean things need to soak overnight!" Ginny snapped.

"I'm sorry if my brain's not all there right now!" Harry replied crossly. "I haven't had any sleep in thirty-six hours, and frankly, beans aren't real high on my priority list right now."

"This party is for your _niece_!"

"This job is for the world's _safety_!"

Ginny stood up, glaring fiercely. "Fine. Go kill your werewolves and villains. But I just thought, after all these years, you would have come to value _family_ a bit more!"

She stomped out of the room, trying not to feel guilty at Harry's devastated expression.

X.x.X.x.X

Later that night, Ginny Floo-called Hermione.

"Molly told me to make the salad," Hermione told Ginny, wringing her hands in a total Hermione fashion. "But I can't decide: olives or no olives? Dominique hates olives, but almost everyone else likes them. I figured it was Dominique's birthday, but I'm just not sure."

"No olives," Ginny said firmly. "Olives are gross."

"They are not!"

Ginny made a face. "Seriously! They have some sort of vendetta against me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. No olives."

Ginny sighed. "How's Ron doing?" Ron and Hermione had gotten engaged almost a year ago, but a wedding had yet to happen.

"Dead asleep," Hermione said, glancing back into the house. "He said something about 'bloody Auror training', then collapsed."

"Harry's tired, too," Ginny said. Hesitantly, she added, "I think he's spending too much time with this job."

Hermione laughed dryly. "Ginny, you must be crazy if you think he's going to stop fighting evil in the world. It has impacted his life too much already. First his parents, then Sirius and Dumbledore, and then all the war victims. It has affected him more than the rest of us can even imagine. He doesn't want anyone to go through what he's gone through."

Ginny furrowed her brow. "He shouldn't let it control his life. I mean, family's more important."

"Of course!" Hermione said, her whole-hearted agreement thoroughly confusing Ginny. "But don't you see? That's why he's doing it! Family. He wants us to be protected. He can't lose us like he has the rest of those he loved."

Ginny felt her heart drop like lead as she comprehended the validity of those words. She instantly felt bad for yelling at Harry earlier. "I've—I've got to go," Ginny murmured to Hermione. "See you tomorrow."

X.x.X.x.X

Ginny frowned. She had checked every room of the flat, and then outside, but there was no Harry to be found.

She plopped down at the table and wearily rubbed her face. Harry and Ginny rarely fought, but like Ron had said years ago, when they did fight, absolute chaos ensues.

She didn't know how long she sat there, waiting for Harry to return. All she knew was that hours later, someone shook her awake.

"Gin."

"Mlurrrg."

"Ginny."

"Nuuuh."

"Ginny, wake up!"

Ginny opened her eyes to find herself face-planted on the table. The table had become quite the pillow the past twenty-four hours.

She raised her head slightly to find Harry staring at her. "What time is it?"

"Half past eleven."

Ginny yawned. "When did you get home?"

"Just now. Here, I got you your beans." Harry dumped a plastic Muggle grocery bag onto the table. A peek inside showed the beans that completed her recipe.

"Oh, Harry! This is great!" Ginny snatched them up and held them possessively to her chest. She tried not to cringe with guilt under Harry's silent gaze as she dumped the beans in a pot. He made no move to strike up a conversation, but seemed plenty content with watching her jerky movements without a smile. The silence was slowly suffocating her.

After about five minutes of awkward silence, broken only by the clangs of pans hitting each other, Ginny decided to speak. "Harry…I'm—sorry."

"I just love those words," Harry said with a half-attempt at a cheeky grin. "Merlin knows I don't hear them often."

"Stop making this so hard!" Ginny snapped, jabbing her wand at the stove. She found it easier to talk to him when she was angry. She didn't have to think about what she was going to say. "I had a little talk with Hermione."

Harry sat down. "Oh," he said, like that was all the explanation needed.

"And I understand your motives a bit better now. I shouldn't have said those things."

"Okay."

Ginny blinked and turned to face him. " 'Okay'? Is that all you're going to say?"

Harry glanced up at her with a confused expression. "Er…yeah. What else do you want me to say?"

Ginny shook her head to clear the images of a rampaging Harry from her mind. "I don't know. So, just to clarify, all is forgiven?"

"Not _all_ forgiven, per se—"

"No, I'm not forgiving you, Potter," Ginny said, turning back to her beans to hide the traitorous smile that was creeping on her face.

But from the corner of her eye, she watched him lean back on two legs of the chair, hands behind his head and smile on his face, everything back to the way it was.

**A/N: Ah, much better. Anyway, you guys really kept my spirits up. I have a flair for over-dramatics. I'm foreseeing about five more chapters, give or take a few. So…review. Tell me how I did. Come on…you know you want to…**

**Disclaimer: Just a mere thirteen year old girl here, totally innocent…not stealing JKR's characters at all here…**


	9. Almost

"Dead?" Harry choked.

Mrs. Weasley wiped tears away from her eyes. "She was an older woman, dear. That pneumonia she caught was the last straw. Her immune system was down for years."

"But I thought the Healers took care of that!" Harry protested desperately.

"I thought so, too," Mrs. Weasley said in a placating tone, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I talked to them about it, and they said they were positive that they had told her about her condition. She just never told us. Didn't want to worry us, probably."

"Didn't tell us?" Harry echoed. His voice was thick. "Just dying suddenly didn't help anything!"

Mrs. Weasley looked at the walls of Harry's office, not meeting his eyes. "I didn't tell the others yet. I wanted to tell you first."

Harry buried his head in his hands, willing himself not to cry. "What about Teddy? Does he know?"

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but a member of Harry's team, Rob Provem, walked in with a manic gleam in his eye. He dropped a thick stack of papers on Harry's desk and leaned over them dramatically. Harry looked up wearily.

"Got them," Provem said darkly with a smile on his face. He tapped the papers. "Five weeks of tracking, and it turns out they're right under our noses. Lots of concealing spells, and it took awhile to crack, but we've got them. Those bloody Death Eaters won't know what's coming."

"I can't deal with this right now," Harry said. He grabbed his cloak and started out the door, Mrs. Weasley walking solemnly behind him, and Provem dogging in his footsteps.

"What do you mean you can't deal with this right now?" Provem asked incredulously. "You're the bloody Head Auror, for Merlin's sake!"

But Harry was already out the door.

X.x.X.x.X

Minerva McGonagall had worked at Hogwarts a _very_ long time.

She had gone through a lot there. She had lived through Marauder pranks. She had lived through Weasley pranks. She had lived through whatever Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to get into. She had lived through _war_.

But nothing rattled her and her dignity more than that little conversation that took place on February 16th, 2011, at half past one in the afternoon.

_That_ broke her heart.

X.x.X.x.X

"Professor McGonagall wants to see Teddy Lupin, Professor."

Professor Flitwick looked a bit put out to be interrupted in the middle of his absolutely _riveting_ lecture on Engorgement Charms, but he laid down his wand (to the immense relief of his "demonstration partner"), and nodded for Teddy to leave.

"Two rolls of parchment on Engorgement Charms for homework, Mr. Lupin," Flitwick called.

Teddy nodded to show that he heard, and dumped his textbooks and quills into his bag. Some of his friends shot him looks that clearly said: "you are _so_ lucky."

Teddy grinned at them and hurried after the uncomfortable-looking first year that was hovering by the door.

"Mate, I owe you," Teddy said gratefully, once they were in the hallway.

The first year looked at Teddy with wide eyes. "You'll never guess who's in McGonagall's office," the boy whispered.

"McGonagall?" Teddy guessed.

"_Harry_ _Potter_," the kid said, saying the name almost reverently.

"Wonder what he's doing here," Teddy mused. "Maybe Aunt Angelina finally had her baby."

The first year's eyes got even bigger, if possible. "You _know_ him?"

"Who, Harry? Yeah, he's my godfather."

"Your—"

They reached the stone gargoyle that led to the Headmistress's office. "Got to go, mate," Teddy interrupted. "See you around."

If Teddy had known what was to happen, he wouldn't have leapt onto the spiraling staircase so quickly. But he did.

And with a firm fist, he knocked on the door.

X.x.X.x.X

"I'm so sorry," McGonagall told Harry when he had finished telling her what had happened. "She was a wonderful woman."

Harry shrugged noncommittally and glanced around. "Yeah. She was."

McGonagall fingered a quill awkwardly. "How are _you_ doing?"

"You'd think I'd be used to this by now," Harry said with bitter humor.

McGonagall twirled the quill. "I've lived through it much longer than you, Potter. Believe me when I say that it doesn't ever get better."

"There's that optimistic Professor we know and love," Harry deadpanned.

"The one and only," McGonagall added dryly.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Both people jumped.

McGonagall looked at Harry with pity. Then, turning to the door, she said, "Come in!"

X.x.X.x.X

As T eddy sauntered into the room, he was not expecting the scene that met his eyes.

His godfather, Harry, was sitting forlornly in an armchair across McGonagall's desk. In his hand was an uneaten cookie. McGonagall sat across from him, fiddling with a long quill.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall addressed him, rising from her seat. "Sit down."

Teddy awkwardly perched himself on the chair next to his godfather. "You have a cookie," Teddy observed unnecessarily.

Harry glanced down at the ginger newt in his hand like he hadn't noticed it was there. "Hmm."

McGonagall cleared her throat awkwardly. "Er, Mr. Lupin…we have some bad news." Here, she glanced at Harry as though expecting him to finish her thought, but he was still examining the cookie.

"What?" Teddy asked quickly. His heart dropped. "What's wrong?"

Harry sighed loudly. "It's your grandmother, Ted. She died this morning."

Teddy couldn't breathe. His stomach dropped, like he had gone down the hill of the rollercoaster Hermione had taken him on. But this was no fun amusement park ride.

"She can't be." Teddy glared at Harry as though reprimanding him for creating this cruel joke.

Harry broke his cookie in half. "It's okay to cry," he said softly.

"I'm not going to cry," Teddy snapped. But even as he said it, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

Before he knew it, he was buried in Harry's shoulder, sobbing. "She wasn't supposed to leave me, too!" Teddy cried. "I've already lost Mum and Dad! She wasn't supposed to—" He broke off and cried with renewed strength.

"It's alright, Teddy," Harry murmured. His heart felt like it was being torn in two. Teddy was in the same boat he himself had been in for most of his adolescent years.

"I just want to go home," Teddy whispered.

X.x.X.x.X

Ginny had long since learned to not question her husband's antics.

So when Harry and walked into the house that particular morning, in the middle of the work day, looking completely distraught, and then Flooed away, Ginny didn't dwell on it too much. Merlin knew that between her three kids, keeping busy wasn't too hard.

But when Harry then proceeded to come home with a sobbing Teddy, she decided that she needed to figure out what was going on.

"Daaaaddddddeeee!" squealed two-year-old Lily.

Drawn by the sound of their sister's voice, Albus and James soon made an appearance, delighted by the sight of Teddy.

"Ginny," Harry said softly.

Ginny glanced up at him, and took in his weary appearance for the first time. "Harry, what in Merlin's name happened?"

"I'll tell you later," he said quietly. "Teddy's going to stay here for awhile." It was a statement, not a question.

"Oh, of course," Ginny replied.

Teddy wiped his eyes. "I'm going upstairs," he muttered, and did so.

"Merlin, Harry, you have a lot of explaining to do."

X.x.X.x.X

"I talked to the Healers," Harry said wearily. "They weren't aware we didn't know."

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said. She wrapped her arms around him, and felt his shoulders shake. "I'm so sorry. Almost sorry enough to forgive you."

Ginny could feel him smile reluctantly against her shoulder. "Guess that's a no, then, huh?"

"To be fair, I said 'almost'," Ginny replied.

Harry chuckled. "I love you."

"Love you too."

**A/N: I sooo sorry about the wait. This chapter was giving me trouble. I can't tell you how many times I rewrote this. Anywho, please review! I like feedback. Good stuff, that.**

**Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I own nothing of this.**


	10. Of Quidditch and Tea

Ginny often lamented on the fact that she had agreed to name _Harry_ _Potter's_ son _James_ _Sirius_. It showed poor foresight on her part. The child had already had the genes for causing trouble, and naming him after the _embodiment_ of trouble was just plain unwise.

For awhile, when James was still rather young and unable to do much more than eat, sleep, and cry, Ginny had prayed that the troublemaking genes had passed him by. For awhile, it seemed like James would become a sweet little child with a docile personality.

Then Albus came along.

Ginny and Harry hadn't planned for a second child so soon, but once he came along, Ginny was sure that she couldn't have asked for a more well-behaved child. There were no worries with Al. The problem lay with James.

James was very interested in the newest addition to the family. He liked to see how Al would react to certain things. He liked to test the limits; to see how far he could go without getting in trouble with his mum.

He poked Al. He sat on Al. He bit Al. The list was retained to child-like play. Unfortunately, James soon decided he needed to go onto bigger and better things. He discovered his magic.

It was small magic at first: turning Albus purple, putting Al's favorite toys on the highest bookcase, lowering the bars of Al's crib so the two could "play" together when it was supposed to be naptime.

It was when James turned Albus invisible that Ginny started to get worried. It was pretty clear that those troublemaking genes hadn't passed by after all.

"You drugged me, didn't you?" Ginny remarked to Harry one evening.

Harry glanced at her, looking perplexed. "Er, what?"

"That's it! I knew it! I knew it wasn't of my own free will!"

"Ginny, what in the name of Merlin's purple pants are you on about?" Harry asked.

"James Sirius!" was all Ginny said.

Harry dropped his book onto the table. "Yes, that's the name of our son…Ginny, are you feeling alright?"

"Why, did you drug me again?" Ginny asked petulantly.

"Why would I drug you?"

"I don't know, you're the one who did it."

"I've never drugged you! Why would I have any motive to do that?"

Ginny glared at him. "Keep up, dear. For such a 'brilliant mind', you're having a lot of trouble following this conversation."

"You're speaking in bloody cryptic messages!" Harry retorted defensively.

"I am not!" Ginny snapped. "Try to follow me: You wanted to name our son James Sirius, correct?"

"Yes."

"The two biggest troublemakers in history."

"Yes."

"But you knew that I wouldn't agree due to above statement."

"What?"

"Keep up, Harry!" Ginny said irritably. "Continuing on: You needed some brilliant idea that could not only land you a son named James Sirius, but also get it past me."

"That's mental."

"So you drugged me—"

"This is possibly the strangest conversation I've ever had."

"—and named our son James Sirius!"

Harry stared at Ginny bemusedly. "Right. You stick with that theory. I have theories of my own, though."

"Like what?"

"That someone _did_ drug you and now you're completely mad."

Ginny scowled. "Most men would use flattery right about now to avoid a night on the couch."

They never did resolve that argument. But the basis of that controversy remained the same. James was trouble.

More than that, he developed his parent's love for flying.

That combined with his daredevil personality was enough to give any parent a heart attack.

-:-:-:-

"Daddy. Daddy!"

Harry groaned and cracked one eye open. "James?"

"You said you'd teach me to fly on a broom."

"Not at 6:43 in the morning!"

James frowned and stared at the digital clock on the nightstand, trying to process the numbers with his five year old mind. Apparently, he couldn't find anything wrong with them, because after a few seconds of intense concentration, James said, "Why?"

"It's too early, James."

"Six forty-three," James whispered to himself thoughtfully. Then he pouted and disappeared from Harry's line of vision. Harry closed his eyes and tried to slip back to unconsciousness.

Suddenly, Harry heard something that made his heart plummet.

"Mummy?"

Bloody hell. This wasn't good.

"Mummy!"

"What—James!" came Ginny's scratchy voice.

Oh, bloody hell. She was awake.

"Daddy said he'd teach me to fly a broom."

"Okay…?"

"He won't get up."

Harry cringed as he felt Ginny's glare on him.

Here's the thing with Ginny: she liked her sleep. She used to sleep until ten thirty to eleven before they had kids. Even after the demanding job of motherhood started up and cut back her sleeping hours, she slept until nine every day. If you woke her up before nine—well, Merlin be with you.

"Harry?" Ginny asked dangerously.

"Er, yes?"

"Get out and help your son. Now."

And if her subtle threat wasn't enough, she prodded him with her cold toes until he rolled onto the floor, much to the delight of James.

"Hurry!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Harry grumbled, pulling on some clothes. On the bed, Ginny was already asleep again.

-:-:-:-

"James, don't even think about kicking off yet."

James smiled up at his father with an impish grin. It was the kind of grin that made you check your pocket for your wallet and hide all sharp/flammable/potentially dangerous objects.

Harry got on the broom behind his son and locked him between his arms as he reached around his small body to grasp the front of the broom.

"Don't try anything up there, James. If you do, you'll have to deal with Mummy when we get back down."

Though he looked the proper amount of fearful about the prospect of an upset Ginny, James was bored of the chit-chat and ready to _fly_, rules be damned. "Go!" he shouted, taking it upon himself to kick off. His father just wasn't moving fast enough for his liking.

Father and son rose to twenty feet, then thirty. James screamed in delight, locking his small hands around Harry's large, callused ones.

"James," Harry said. "You shouldn't have kicked off until we were ready."

"I _was_ ready," James said, with the certainty of a five-year-old.

Harry rolled his eyes as James reached out and touched the leaf of a tree they were passing over.

They stayed in the air for a couple hours, working on changing directions, stopping, turning, and even a bit of diving. At 9:27, James was already steering the broom by himself and pulling out of dives and sharp turns like a professional.

"Daddy, I want to fly by myself," James said, after landing on the ground, albeit clumsily.

"You're sure?"

"Yes!"

"One hundred percent positive?"

"_Yes_, Daddy!"

"And you're sure—"

James scowled, annoyed with the games, and simply took off.

"James!" Harry groaned.

"Giving you trouble?" Ginny asked from behind him, startling him.

She had donned a pink bathrobe, slippers, and was cradling a steaming mug of tea. Her eyes were fixed on the swooping dot that was their son. "He's going to be the death of me, I'm sure."

"You and me both. Are Al and Lily still asleep?" Harry asked, stealing her tea and taking a deep drink. He hadn't noticed the chilly March air until the tea spread feeling and warmth into his previously numb limbs.

"Both asleep. And give me back my tea!" She whacked his arm, causing him to chuckle.

"Stop! Gin—you're going to make me choke!" Harry handed over her mug. "Honestly, I was just trying to see if I was going to die in the near future."

"You haven't done your Divination homework for years, Harry, I'm sure Trelawney won't mind waiting a bit longer…"

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around his wife, who dropped her head onto his shoulder. "This seems like an ideal time to ask…forgive me?"

"I might possibly consider…and mind you, this is the ittiest, bittiest chance possible, the epitome of tiniest chances—But I might forgive you if you get your son out of the tree."

Harry's eyes widened disbelievingly before his face split into a huge grin. "Oh, yes! I've made you crack! Finally!" Harry paused to finish her tea before running over to a towering oak tree to rescue their son.

Ginny looked scandalized as she stared disbelievingly into her mug. "You prat! You finished my tea! Just for that, I'm revoking my offer! There, not feeling so good now, are you? Really, what good are husbands?"

**A/N: Honestly? I have noooo idea where this came from. But I was looking at the category I had placed this in, and I saw I had put it under Romance/Humor…I think…anyway, this story has been really dark and angsty, hasn't it? I needed something a little lighter. A lot of you thought the story was ending last chapter, but never fear! Ginny's holding out…I predict two, maybe three more chapters…anyway review! **


	11. The Dragon Trainer

On Friday, June 17th, 2011, Albus Potter's eyes popped open excitedly as he woke up that morning.

He wasted no time pulling on his clothes, with_out_ the help of his mother, he'd like to add, and running into his parents' bedroom where both his mother and father were dead asleep. His father had been on an Auror mission all day yesterday, and his mother had waited up for him late last night.

This, unfortunately for his unprepared parents, didn't deter him from waking them up in the classic Albus Potter way: jumping on them.

"MummyMummyMummy!"

His dad cracked an eye open. "Al?"

"Daaaaaaad!" Albus belly-flopped onto his father's stomach, causing a great 'Oof'.

Albus propped his head up with his hands. "Dad!"

Ginny had awoken, too. "To what do we owe this early-morning pleasure?" she asked sarcastically.

"Mum! Uncle Charlie's coming today!"

"_Sh_—I, er, _darn_!" His mum stumbled out of bed and thrust open her wardrobe door. "Harry, we were supposed to be there four minutes ago. Here, wear this." Ginny tossed Harry some clothes over her shoulder. "Mum's gonna _kill_ me."

"Albus, go eat breakfast," Harry muttered in his son's ear. "And make sure Lily doesn't get into the jam again, alright?"

Albus nodded and sprinted down the stairs with the energy of a five-year-old.

When he got into the kitchen, James was standing with one leg on a chair and the other kneeling on the counter. His arms were stretched upwards, trying to reach the cereal.

Lily was underneath the table, playing with Soft Bear and Baby, her doll and a very worn out teddy bear. Next to her was an open jar of raspberry jam.

"Al, catch!" James said, throwing down a bowl and spoon.

All he could say was, thank Merlin for his fast reflexes.

"James, Daddy said not to throw things in the kitchen!" Lily admonished, sticking her fingers in the jar again.

"Yeah, but he also said not to eat the jam," James countered.

"Yeah, but he also said not to eat the jam," Lily mimicked, seeing her side of the argument quickly deteriorating.

"You're acting like a baby!"

"You're acting like a baby!"

"Stop it, Lily!"

"Stop it, Lily!"

"Lily is a baby who always cries!"

"Lily is a—James!"

"Ha, you didn't copy me!"

Then a couple things happened at once, almost all of them bad.

Lily, fed up with James's teasing, threw her jar of jam at him. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, James's chair had wobbled at the exact time, and he fell to the floor in a heap. The jam shattered against the wall, having just missed James's head, and it coated the whole kitchen in sticky reddish-purple goo. Al, observing the whole thing, muttered, "Dad's gonna kill you two!" just as the man in question appeared at the door to the kitchen.

To quote Uncle Dudley's wife, "This is a fine kettle of fish."

Harry Potter's three jam-covered kids each pointed to the other two. "They did it," they all said in unison.

-:-:-:-

Luckily, they got to Grandma Molly's without too much more trouble.

The kids, upon their arrival, scurried off to find their other cousins as Ginny and Harry went into the living room with the rest of the adults.

"Punctual as usual, Ginny," Charlie said, grinning.

"We have James as a son, and you're complaining about our punctuality?" Ginny retorted, giving her brother a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"George got here on time, and _his_ kids all took after _him_," Charlie teased.

"He also has Angelina as a wife," Ginny countered.

"Oh, so now it's _my_ fault?" Harry said mock-indignantly.

Ginny shrugged. "It was implied."

Molly gave Harry a hug and patted his cheek. "Well, you're here now, so get all the kids in here and we can start brunch."

It didn't take too much prodding to get the kids to the table; after all, this was Grandma Molly's cooking, they were talking about.

Soon the whole family was smashed around the table. Elbows were jostled, feet were stomped on, and more than a little butter got on the tablecloth, but they made it work.

"It's good to be home," Charlie commented, mopping up some spilled juice with his napkin.

Albus wrinkled his nose. "_I'd_ much rather be with _dragons_."

"Love you, too, Al," George teased from the other side of the table.

Al shrugged, unfazed. "I'm going to Romania when I grow up," he declared, kneeling on his chair to better reach the bread basket. "I'm going to go and train all the dragons."

"Even the _Hungarian_ _Horntail_?" Roxanne asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah!"

"He is totally his father's son," Ginny noted. "I never catch a break. Never!"

Harry grinned. "Forgive me."

"Never."

**A/N: This one's kind of short, but I've grown attached to this chapter. I love Al. I'm thinking about doing one on each of Harry's kids, before the big finale. That means one more on Lily before the end. Bittersweet, I guess. Please review. I would die of excitement if I reached 5o before this is over.**


	12. This Dynamic Relationship

**A/N: I normally don't do A/Ns at the top, but basically, what's happening, is that Ginny and Harry are going to a Quidditch match and need a babysitter for Lily (James and Al are a Hogwarts), and who better to turn to than everyone's favorite Luna? Ginny is slightly hesitant, though. The Weasleys/Potters haven't really seen much of the Scamanders in all those years, though, because they have been trekking the world for Luna's creatures. They have just recently settled down.**

"I don't know, Harry," Ginny said hesitantly.

"Oh, come on. It's not like we're handing our child off to some stranger off the streets," Harry pointed out.

"But you know Luna. She's a tad—er, _eccentric_. To put it lightly."

"She's gotten better. No more Nargles, at least," Harry said.

"Yeah, because Rolf told her they were actually Irish blood-sucking parasites," Ginny retorted. "Which brings up _another_ point—"

Harry groaned, seeing where this was going.

"—_Rolf._ The man's _insane_, Harry!"

"So's Luna, but you don't believe that," Harry countered.

"Luna's my _friend_," Ginny snapped.

Harry shrugged. "And Rolf's her husband. So he can't be all that bad."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't you remember what he wore for Ron and Hermione's wedding?"

"—Ginny—"

"—That horrible bright orange jacket? With—with those _things_ on it? Aunt Muriel had a fit!"

"She's always having a fit!"

Ginny crossed her arms, not amused. She returned to the matter at hand. "No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry! _Fine_! But if one little thing happens…"

"I'm as good as dead?"

"I'm not _that_ violent."

"That's debatable."

"Not helping…"

Harry grinned, seeing a victory on his part. "Though I do wonder what will happen to Lily…"

"That poor child!" Ginny moaned, covering her eyes with her hands.

-:-:-:-

Harry studied the door to the Scamander's house. It was covered in knobs and switches, with signs tacked onto various ones with helpful messages like, "Turn this if you've touched a Quickitt recently" and, "Do not press if it is Sunday in the second week of June."

Lily hopped from foot to foot, shivering. "Daddy, I'm cold!"

"If I could just figure out—"

The door to the house suddenly swung open, revealing Luna in all her butterbeer-cork-necklace-wearing glory. Her wide eyes brightened as she saw who was standing on her front step.

"Harry! Lily! I thought you wouldn't come!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Erm…what makes you say that?"

"Call it intuition. Got it past Ginny, I see? How long did it take you? She certainly is stubborn," Luna rambled, ushering them into her house which was just as peculiar as the outside.

"Not as long as I would've thought," Harry admitted, taking in the snarled plants that perched precariously on every surface. The walls were covered in a vast assortment of knickknacks and pictures of Rolf and her on their adventures, and of two identical blond boys that Harry assumed were her sons.

"She thinks I'm a tad mental. But that's okay. Most people think that."

Harry shrugged. "Their loss."

Luna offered him a bright smile. "That's very kind," she told him earnestly. "Oh, Rolf!"

Harry looked over to see Rolf Scamander standing awkwardly against the doorframe. His mousy hair was in a disarray, and that was only accentuated with his yellow jacket and crooked purple-and-blue polka dot tie. His watery grey eyes were fixed on Harry in a mix of nervousness and awe.

"You've never really properly met, have you?" Luna noted. "We're always on some trip or another, and Rolf doesn't go to the Weasley gatherings. He's kind of antisocial."

"You're Harry Potter?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Hmm. I'd've thought the Grumpers would've gotten you by now," he asked, giving him an onceover.

Having been friends with Luna for a long time, Harry knew that the best thing to do when confronted with a random observation like that was to just smile and act like you knew what they were talking about. Lily, however, was not so well-trained.

"What's a Grumper?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Well, you see, Lily," Luna began, "When a person is accessed to—"

"Oh my. Looks like the game is about to start!" Harry interrupted. "Pity. I was looking forward to discovering what a Grumper was. Lily will have to tell me when she gets home."

"What game?" Rolf asked, confused.

"Ginny used to play for the Holyhead Harpies—"

" 'Potter! Number 7!'" Rolf quoted, imitating a Quidditch announcer's voice. "I'm aware."

"Right," Harry said uncomfortably. "Well, she quit a few years back, and now she gets free tickets to the game when they're in town. Normally, I'd drop the kids at the Burrow, but Molly and Arthur went to a Ministry banquet. I was actually supposed to go to that, but…"

"Most people at the Ministry are a bunch of idiots with the comprehension abilities of a fly?" Luna suggested.

Harry considered that. "Yeah…yeah, I guess that works."

Suddenly, from somewhere in the house, there was a great clanging crash, followed by a screech of: "LYSANDER!", and a bunch of nervous laughter.

Luna just sighed. "My son. Lysander. Could give Teddy a run for his money in the klutz-department."

Harry grimaced. "Must be pretty bad then, eh?"

"It's actually pretty worrying," Luna said in that sincere way of hers. "Five years old and already blowing things up on accident. Want to meet the twins really quickly before you go?"

Before Harry could reply, Luna turned and called, "Lorcan, Lysander!"

Immediately, there was the pounding of running footsteps on the stairs. Two blond figures whizzed into the room, one crashing into the wall before righting himself.

"Lysander." Luna pointed to the one that crashed into the wall. "Lorcan." Pointing at the other one.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said politely.

"Who's that?" Lorcan asked, pointing at Lily.

"Harry's daughter. Lily. She's going to spend the day with us," Luna told him.

"I've really got to be going now. Thanks a million, Luna, and we should be back to pick her up at about five or six. You never know with Quidditch. Bye, Lily, see you soon!" Harry began to open the door.

"No, no, no, no! Dad—don't go!"

"Lily, you'll be fine. Luna's your godmother. You know her."

But looking at Lily, Harry could see that that was not the problem. Her eyes were fixed on the twins, and they were filled with fear.

"You can make new friends, Lily, it'll be fine."

Lily reluctantly released her vice-like grip on Harry's wrist, and Harry slipped out the door.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this really was a bad idea.

-:-:-:-

"Time to see the state of Luna's house," Ginny said cheerfully, buckling into her seat.

They usually didn't take the car, but Lily absolutely despised Apparation, and Ginny idly commented that she didn't want to be cleaning vomit out of the carpet all night.

"It was a brilliant match," Ginny said. "Took Placery much too long to catch the snitch, though. Nothing on you." She nudged him with her shoulder.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you know how long it's been since I've played Seeker? I'm so out of practice it's not even funny."

"It's a little funny," Ginny amended.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss I'm-such-a-brilliant-chaser-that-I-dropped-the-quaffle-a-total-of-twenty-two-times-in-one-game."

Ginny scoffed. "I was sick that day, remember? It was before I found out I was pregnant with _your_ child, I might add. Kept me up half the night hugging the toilet."

"Still, _twenty-two times_! They have you down in the record books somewhere."

"No, the most someone's dropped a quaffle in a professional game is seventy-six times."

"You could give Hermione a run for her money with those useless facts you memorize."

"And you could give Ron a run for his money if you keep being an annoying git," Ginny retorted without missing a beat.

Harry chuckled. "We have such a dynamic relationship, don't we?"

"The best," Ginny agreed.

Harry pulled up in front of Luna's house. "The best, huh? Forgive me?"

Ginny smiled a bit. "I love you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that a yes I hear, Mrs. Potter?"

Ginny grinned and opened her mouth to reply, when the car door banged open and Lily tumbled inside.

"Just _wait_ until you hear what we did today," she declared, her nine-year-old drama showing through. "So, there was this Nargle infestation in the attic, and Luna brought us up there…"

"Great, Harry," Ginny said over Lily's exciting tale. "We've got our own little Luna developing. You _had_ to have her babysit, didn't you?"

Harry shrugged apologetically. "Sorry?"

"Now I'm not going to forgive you," Ginny declared. "You ruined it all!"

"Now, who was the one that _named_ Lily after Luna? I can't seem to remember…"

"Shut up. You agreed," Ginny snapped.

"Dynamic relationship, indeed!"

**A/N: Yay for little Lily! Guys, you know what's really sad? This story is ending soon! One more chapter! Hurry, review, review, review! Don't let your words be left unsaid! Especially if it's criticism, because that helps me get better as a writer. I want to put my best work forth for you guys for sticking with me all this time. I would love to get fifty reviews before the end. Help a good cause? :)**


	13. The End Toast and Orange Lemonade

It was Tuesday, October 1st, 2021.

-:-:-:-

Ginny narrowed her eyes in determination as she decided to continue the ever-going battle between herself and her house: cleaning.

"You're going to be _spotless_," she told the kitchen at large.

The kitchen didn't reply.

"You won't know what hit you!" she threatened, waving her bottle of _Scourgify! Clean Your House With No Hassle!_

The kitchen stared blankly back.

Deciding that she rather liked the lack of inanimate objects talking to her, Ginny nodded her head in resolve and set to work, singing the Weird Sisters' latest song, _Imperio, You're in Love with Me_, under her breath.

-:-:-:-

Al held up a thin sliver of wood, smaller than his pinky. A match. His eyes were dancing with mischief as he showed his companions.

"Oh, dear Merlin," Rose muttered. "What are you doing now?"

Scorpius looked from Al to Rose in confusion. "What?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "He's got something up his sleeve."

"How do you know?" Scorpius asked, still looking confused.

"Besides the fact that he is an immature, troublemaking fifteen-year-old boy on a boring Tuesday? I've known him since birth, Scorp. We grew up together. I know when he's going to cause mass pandemonium."

"Relax, Rose," Al said, rolling his eyes.

"Funny how that had the exact opposite effect," Rose said dryly. She shrugged, shifting her bag to her other shoulder. Her eyes suddenly took on some of Al's twinkle. "Alright, are you going to tell us? Can I help?"

Scorpius looked at Rose in shock. "What just happened to responsible, law-abiding Rose?"

"Shut up. Or I'll release my inner irresponsible, _non_-law-abiding Rose."

Al shot a sideways glance at Scorpius. "That doesn't end well, mate."

"Your family's so weird," Scorpius muttered.

Al clapped his hands together. "Speaking of family. James and I decided that we needed a Potter-Weasley clan prank."

"That's, like, a billion kids," Rose told him skeptically. "And they're _all_ in?"

"_Nine_ kids, not counting the ones that have already graduated. Ten if Scorpius joins our ranks. Then there's the Scamanders, so that would be twelve…Basically, not a billion. And yes, they're all in," Al said, ticking them off on his fingers. "Louis, Lucy, James, Fred, me, you, Lily, Hugo, Roxanne."

"Lysander and Lorcan," Rose contributed.

"And me!" Scorpius added.

"This is going to brilliant!" Al whispered mischievously.

-:-:-:-

James was having a similar conversation with the older children at Hogwarts.

"A _what_?" Louis asked, torn between looking amused and frightened.

"A Potter-Weasley clan prank. Al helped me plan it."

Lucy raised her eyebrows. "You and Al had a civilized conversation?"

"Well, no one got hurt, if that's what you're asking," James said with a shrug.

"Yet," Louis muttered darkly.

"Are you corrupting Al?" Lucy asked accusingly.

"He was corrupted long before I came into the mix. He was the one that came up with the prank. If anything, you should be blaming _him_ for corrupting _me_!"

"Corrupting you, my arse," Lucy muttered.

Fred grinned. "If Al came up with it, it must be good." Then, seeing James's scandalized face, he quickly added, "Nothing on you, though."

Lucy snorted.

Louis coughed.

"We're not really sure what the prank's going to be, yet," James admitted. "We know it involves blue hair, though. Possibly flying purple pigs."

"Psh. That's child's play. Flying purple pigs? Unoriginal," Louis informed him. "The blue hair bit's good, though."

"The pig was my idea!" James said defensively.

"And you're wondering why it's unoriginal?"

Lucy grinned wickedly. "The blue hair was Al's idea, right?"

"Yes," James admitted.

"For such a seemingly innocent human being, Al is really vicious," Fred commented.

James scowled. "Oh, blue hair. How _vicious_. Let's all bow down to him and his viciousness!"

"Is viciousness a word?" Lucy asked.

"Shut up, _Rose_," James muttered.

"Viciousness _is_ actually a word," Louis told them.

"No one cares if viciousness is a word or not!" James exclaimed.

"At least two of us do," Louis said.

"Ooh! Me! I care!" Fred interrupted excitedly.

"Make that three."

James growled. "Everybody shut up and help me plan a prank!"

Fred put a comforting arm on his cousin's shoulder. "James, relax. We have the whole Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes at our disposal. It will be unforgettable."

-:-:-:-

Sometimes, Teddy hated being an Auror.

Teddy sat behind his desk in the Auror department. Or, at least he _hoped_ it was his desk. He couldn't actually see it due to the insane amount of paperwork covering the top of it.

Teddy stared blankly at the top layer of paper. _I should probably get this done_, he thought to himself. However, he couldn't bring himself to lift his quill or find some ink under the mess of papers.

"Teddy."

Teddy jumped and looked up. Leaning against the entrance to his cubicle was Victoire, her long blonde hair neatly pinned away from her face. She looked calm and composed in her required Magical Law Enforcement robes. In her hand was a medium-sized, brown paper bag.

"Is that food?" Teddy asked hopefully, eyes on the bag.

"'Hello, Victoire! You look nice today. How are you?'" Victoire suggested dryly. "Oh, thank you Teddy. I'm great!"

Teddy smiled sheepishly, and, before he could do any more damage, got up and kissed her on the cheek. "You do look good today."

Victoire smiled, pulled his chin down to her height, and kissed him deeply. "That's better."

"Agreed."

Victoire studied to the mess on his desk. "Busy?"

"Just a bit," Teddy said sarcastically. "You never answered my question," he told her, eyes once again trained on the bag clutched in her perfectly manicured fingers.

"All boys care about is food," Victoire scoffed. She dropped the bag on his desk with a dramatic thud. "Us girls are always second best. Food is always at the top of the hierarchy of priorities." She contemplated going on. Finally, she rolled her eyes and added, "And yes, it is food."

"Victoire, you're the best," Teddy said reverently, as he pulled out a sandwich.

"I do try," she replied dryly.

Teddy sunk his teeth into the turkey and cheese sandwich.

Victoire studied the papers that had consolidated on his desk. "This looks pretty strenuous."

"Oh yes. It's great fun."

Victoire studied some of Teddy's scrawling handwriting. "Why do you have so much work?"

"Have you heard of Harry's mission?" At Victoire's nod, he continued. "Not surprised. For a top secret mission, everyone knows about it." He took another bite. "It's Harry and four other blokes. Catching some of Greyback's descendents. It's extremely dangerous, and only the best are going. The rest of the department's really tense. They refuse to send out new missions until Harry's comes back. If they come back," Teddy added darkly.

"They'll come back," Victoire said confidently. "Merlin knows Harry's good enough."

Teddy set down his sandwich, appetite gone. "Vic, I'm scared for him."

Victoire's brow furrowed. "Well, of course you are. He's your godfather, and he's out fighting dangerous men. It's only natural. I'm just saying that Harry is more than capable of handling them. He's got something to fight for. The bad guys, however, do not."

"You don't understand. He's my only family tie left. And it's not even a blood one."

"You know what Harry told me a long time ago?" Victoire asked, suddenly very serious. "I had asked him about your parents. Why they were dead. He said that they had loved you so much, that they were willing to give up their lives to protect you."

"He told me that, too," Teddy told her in confusion.

"I didn't understand it fully. It was some abstract concept that I accepted, but didn't question, and therefore, didn't comprehend," Victoire continued. "I mean, I had heard about Harry's mother's sacrifice, but it didn't seem real to me. And I had heard about Sirius, but it didn't happen directly to me. Why should I care? I know that sounds horrible…I mean, I felt terrible for Harry. He lost all his family ties, not unlike you. But then, whether it be the results if growing up and maturing, or one too many heart-to-hearts like this, I began to understand. Love _isn't_ understandable. It's something so deep, so indescribable. Words can't express it. Family isn't blood. Family is love, and whoever loves you enough to call you family. And, Merlin, I'm sounding like a sap."

"Not a sap," Teddy corrected, looking at Victoire with awe. "But Merlin, I _love_ you."

-:-:-:-

"Welcome, fellow Weasleys!" Fred began in his dramatic ways.

"And Potters!" James added, shooting Fred a dirty look, which he blatantly ignored.

"Yes, yes, yes," Rose snapped. "Cut to the chase. I have to tutor in thirty minutes."

James smirked. "Ah, Rose. The lone scholar out of us rebels."

"Nerd, more like," Fred sniggered.

Rose got to her feet, cheeks flushed from anger. "Say that again, Weasley, and I'll—"

"Everybody shut up!" Al yelled.

"_Vicious_," Fred whispered not-so-quietly, causing Louis and Lucy to snort and James to shove him into a desk.

They were meeting in an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor. This particular classroom had been the place of many Weasley excursions, from snogging to prank-planning such as this. It was only befitting to plan the pinnacle of Weasley pranks at this particular location.

"But really, guys, hurry it up," Roxanne interrupted.

James saluted her. "Yes, ma'am! Don't worry. It will be wrapped up in fifteen minutes, max."

"We're planning a master prank," Al said, never one to beat around the bush. "If someone missed that memo."

"Al, you're a dork," James said simply.

"Charming," Al muttered. "But a bit rich, coming from you."

"_Vicious_," Lucy, Fred, and Louis whispered in unison.

Rose banged her head down on a desk. "I live with a bunch of idiots."

Scorpius patted her back. "There, there."

"Don't touch my sister!" Hugo growled.

"What are you, dad's spy?" Rose spat. "Honestly."

"The Wobbledegooks do tend to descend through family members," Lysander observed.

Lorcan shook his head. "It's the Huffpingers, not Wobbledegooks. Remember? 'Huffpingers through the family go/Watch out kids, or you'll meet your doom.'"

"But that doesn't rhyme," Lily countered. "It should be, 'Huffpingers through the family descend/Watch out kids, or you'll meet your end.' Or something like that."

"Neither are right because it's the Wobbledegooks, not the Huffpingers!" Lysander adamantly insisted.

"Idiots, I tell you," Rose groaned. "Idiots!"

-:-:-:-

Hermione was having an uncharacteristically slow day.

Part of it had to do with Ron's absence. He was on an Auror mission with Harry. Being pretty high up there in the Ministry, Hermione knew all about the potential danger of the mission, even though Harry and Ron had made a point of not disclosing a lot of the more worrying information to her. She tried not to think about it, though. Just another mission. They'd be back and eating all her food in less than a week. Harry was no stranger to surviving impossible tasks, and Ron was his right-hand man. He wouldn't leave Harry.

Of course, another part of the slow day had to do with the throbbing headache she had acquired that morning. It felt like drunken dragons were running relay races through her brain.

"Must be the barometric pressure, or something," Hermione muttered to herself as she flopped back onto her pillows and giving up on ever getting out of her bed. "A storm must be coming."

-:-:-:-

Ginny dumped her stack of cookbooks onto the newly-scrubbed kitchen table.

"It's about time I organized these," she muttered to herself.

She picked _Cooking for the Family Cheap!_ by its front and back covers, letting the pages hang in the center. Then, she shook it viciously.

A cascade of loose papers and recipes that had been stuck in between the pages in the haste of cleaning up at some point in time fluttered down and accumulated on the wooden tabletop.

"This is so cathartic," Ginny sighed.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of white light. In surprise, Ginny dropped the cookbook with a thud and shielded her eyes from the bright light. When it had dimmed a bit, Ginny lowered her hand to see what the source was.

It was a Patronus.

Even more, it was a terrier.

A terrier that just so happened to belong to Ron.

-:-:-:-

Teddy and Victoire were in the middle of a particularly heated snogging session.

The piles of paperwork were forgotten. Teddy's half-eaten turkey and cheese sandwich was forgotten. The fact that they were in the middle of the Auror department, and so consequently, there were Aurors lounging about that could walk by at that exact moment was forgotten.

Everything was forgotten. It was just Teddy and Victoire. Nothing and no one else.

And the terrier.

Don't forget the terrier.

-:-:-:-

Hermione cradled her cup of tea in her hands, eyes shut tight against the throbbing of her head. Those drunken, relay-racing dragons had suddenly started breathing fire.

"Sweet Merlin, this is going to be a terrible storm!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.

Then she saw the terrier, and knew the storm was indeed going to be catastrophic.

-:-:-:-

"Then, Al lights it with a match," James told the room at large. "Louis and Roxanne are going to cast the Engorgement Charm. Rose, Fred, and Lucy will pull the ropes on the dye. Lily, Lysander, Hugo, and Lorcan, will throw the Instant Darkness Powder on the seventh floor corridor, and then cut the ropes, dropping the goo. Scorpius and I will release the charmed chickens into the Entrance Hall."

Al nodded and pocketed the match that he had showed to Scorpius and Rose earlier. Lily, Hugo, Lorcan, and Lysander each took a packet of Instant Darkness Powder, and Lily also grabbed James's pocket knife, which he was "graciously lending her, and if she dulls or snaps the blade, he would promptly kill her."

"What if I accidently stab myself?" Lily asked curiously, examining the pocketknife.

"If that ruins the knife, then I will kill you," James reiterated, like Lily was being an idiot.

"It's refreshing to know you value your family so much," Lily said in disgust. She tossed James the knife back. "Take it. I'll use Al's."

James scoffed. "Al's too wimpy to carry around a pocketknife."

Al smirked and showed James a silver blade. "You were saying?"

James looked from Al, to Lily, to Al's blade in disbelief. "How did Lily know?"

"Oh, please. Al and I have been partners-in-crime for, like, ever," Lily scoffed. "Call it younger child syndrome."

"That's so unfair," James said. "You guys have pranked people without me?"

"Oh yeah," Lily said. "Tons."

"And do you remember on that fateful day in July of 2017? The breakfast incident?" Al asked. "Yeah, that was us."

"You really didn't suspect them at all?" Louis asked. "Wow. I know of maybe thirty-five pranks they have pulled on you."

"I resent that," James said crossly. "I'm cutting all ties from the Potter-Weasley family. I'm never talking to you lot again. Starting now."

There was a moment of silence where all the cousins looked anywhere but each other. They knew that if they caught the eye of someone else, they would burst out laughing. If, Merlin forbid, that should happen, it would take a whole lot more to get James to forgive and forget.

"Oh, my God," James suddenly whispered.

"What? I thought you weren't speaking to us ever again?" Fred teased.

James shoved him roughly into the desk, all traces of teasing gone. "Shut _up_!"

"What the hell, James?" Lucy snapped, helping Fred up from where he fell on the floor.

"No," Al murmured suddenly.

"What has gotten into you guys?" Rose demanded.

James looked at Al, and his worst fears were confirmed.

Al nodded slightly. Then, he lifted a shaking finger to point out the terrier.

-:-:-:-

"Ran into trouble. Harry's in St. Mungo's. Hurry there. Fast."

-:-:-:-

Victoire pushed herself off of Teddy in fright. "Oh, my God, Teddy. Teddy? Teddy, are you okay? Teddy, answer me. It will be okay. Let's get there quickly."

-:-:-:-

_Crack_! The mug slipped from Hermione's fingers and shattered on the floor, tea splashing everywhere, a graveyard of sharp, ceramic pieces.

-:-:-:-

Ginny always prided herself on quick instincts.

When she heard what Ron said, she had arrived at St. Mungo's three seconds later.

-:-:-:-

"McGonagall's office," Lucy said immediately, grabbing Lily, James, and Al by their arms and shoving them through the door.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Teddy felt himself being pushed up by Victoire. He dimly registered her worried tone. He saw the blur of questioning faces as Victoire steered them both to the Apparation point.

He mentally shook himself. This was pathetic. He called himself an Auror? Getting to Harry required a fully-functioning mind.

"Turn left," Teddy told Victoire, snapping out of his trance.

"Apparation point is over here," Victoire said crossly.

Teddy tugged on her arm, and they turned left. "Always busy this time of day. Easier to just leave the Ministry with the Floo. We can go directly to St. Mungo's, too."

"That takes time that we don't have!" Victoire snapped.

"Trust me on this!" Teddy exclaimed. "Arguing won't do any good!"

They tumbled into the elevators, startling some of their coworkers.

"What are you two young ones doing?" a man named Graves asked. His eyes took in Teddy's crooked clothing and Victoire's hair, which was falling out of the pins holding it back.

No, it was not from their snogging. It was from the run to the elevator.

"We need to get to St. Mungo's," Teddy snapped, not liking what the man was implying.

"His godfather ran into a bit of trouble," Victoire added. Teddy could tell she was trying to stay positive.

Victoire reached up and smoothed Teddy's mussed up hair. She took in its somber black coloring. "Worried?"

"Why on earth would I be feeling worried?" Teddy muttered sarcastically.

"Don't go off on me," Victoire said, suddenly verging on angry. "This isn't my fault."

Teddy stared at his feet, slightly embarrassed.

Luckily, the elevator reached their floor, and they had an excuse to not talk. That excuse being sprinting across the Atrium and into the first fireplace they saw, yelling out, "St. Mungo's!" and swirling away amongst the ash and flame.

-:-:-:-

"Wand, wand, wand! Where's my bloody _wand_?" Hermione tore off the top cushions of her couch and plunged her hand into the gap. She felt around hurriedly. She came up with a pencil stub, three sweet wrappers, and her lost pearl earring, but no wand.

"Never mind!" she screamed in frustration. She stumbled to the fireplace and plunged her hand into the clay vase Rose had brought home on her first day of kindergarten. To her dismay, her nails scraped the bottom.

"Damn it, Ron!" Hermione yelled. "You were supposed to get more Floo powder!"

She stared around their living room in dismay, at a loss of what to do. Her eyes landed on the coffee table.

Oh. There was her wand.

-:-:-:-

Ginny tore through the halls of St. Mungo's, sprinting toward her husband. She nearly plowed down a Healer as she whipped around a corner.

"Where's Harry Potter?" Ginny demanded.

The Healer was young, barely twenty. She had obviously never experienced anything like a distraught Weasley before. The Healer shot a furtive glance at a closed door to her right before turning back to address the slightly wild-eyed Ginny Potter. "He is not able to have visitors at the moment."

That young Healer was about to experience the Weasley Wrath.

-:-:-:-

"Dad," Lily whispered hoarsely.

Al had donned a stony face, while James had dropped his tough-guy façade altogether and was just trying not to cry.

The rest of the Weasleys, plus Lorcan, Lysander, and Scorpius, dogged in Lucy's brisk footsteps.

Lucy was the only one who seemed altogether unworried. She had adopted the leader position, and was steering the Potter children through the halls while every now and then shooting obscene hand gestures at the passersby that stared at the small parade winding its way through the castle.

"Damn. I don't know the password," Lucy cursed, when they came to the stone gargoyle.

"Spark Plugs," James muttered. "Muggle themed month, remember?"

"Ah, yes," Lucy said. She repeated the password to the statue, and ushered everyone through when it leaped aside.

"McGonagall!" Louis shouted, pounding his fist against the door.

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall admonished, swinging the door open on his seventh knock, narrowly avoiding Louis's flailing fist. "You have to—What's wrong with them?" She scrutinized the Potters very carefully. "They look as if they've seen a ghost!"

Fred's forehead wrinkled. "Well, that's kind of inevitable, isn't it? Seeing as we go to a magical school with ghosts in it. Though, say, didn't we see Nearly Headless Nick on the way—?"

"It's a Muggle saying," Rose said wearily.

"It's Uncle Harry," Roxanne interrupted somberly. "He's in St. Mungo's."

"That boy," McGonagall sighed. "Always in the hospital."

Louis looked away. "He was on a dangerous mission, though. Like, _really_ dangerous. The whole Auror department is practically shut down. And normally, Ginny comes to get us, because Ron Floos to tell her, but this time, he sent a Patronus to all of us. And Ginny isn't here. That means it's really bad."

McGonagall's eyes suddenly widened a bit. "_That_ mission? The one everyone's been talking about?"

"Yeah," Rose confirmed. "_That_ one."

McGonagall straightened, no doubt accustomed to being calm and collected in situations like these. "Well, let's get you to St. Mungo's," McGonagall said briskly, ushering James, Al, Lily, and the rest of the Weasleys into the giant fireplace. "Sorry, Lorcan and Lysander. Potters and Weasleys only. Same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy."

As the Scorpius and the Scamander twins moved away from the fireplace, looking a bit put out, McGonagall held out a little jeweled box full of Floo powder. James took a small handful.

Before he threw it into the flame, McGonagall touched his arm. "Send your father my best wishes."

James nodded, and they Flooed away.

-:-:-:-

"Ginny!" Hermione called in relief, spotting her friend standing across from Harry's usual room in a St. Mungo's hallway.

"Let me in, damn it!" Ginny was shouting at a young Healer that was cowering slightly under her ferocious gaze.

"I can't!" the Healer fairly wailed.

"Ginny, take a deep breath," Hermione said in a placating voice. She laid her hand on Ginny's shoulder.

Ginny spun on her heel and swung at her friend. "Shut up, Hermione!"

Hermione caught Ginny's clenched fist before it made contact with her face. She turned to address the Healer while still struggling with Ginny. "What's the situation?"

"She wants to see Mr. Potter, who is currently under intense care and unable to have visitors at the moment," the Healer informed Hermione in a slightly shaky voice. She straightened her glasses and brushed off some invisible dust from the front of her robes, grabbing at what little dignity she had left. "They will inform you when you can see him."

"That's my husband!" Ginny spat. "I'm Ginny Potter!"

"Doesn't change anything. I will send out the lead Healer in a minute, but right now, the Healers need to work completely undisturbed. You have to understand Mr. Potter's critical condition," she replied diplomatically. "Coffee?"

Ginny was thrown off guard at the abrupt change in topic. "I—What?"

"Coffee. We also have orange lemonade."

"I thought it was pink lemonade?"

"Not when it's orange."

"Oh. I need to try some of that, then."

-:-:-:-

Teddy and Victoire tumbled out of the Floo. Pausing only to get their bearings, the couple fairly ran across the St. Mungo's lobby, ignoring the Healer at the front desk's plea for them to walk.

"Fourth Floor," Teddy muttered, all too accustomed to St. Mungo's floor plans.

They sped through the halls, nearly tipping over a patient in a wheelchair.

Finally, they spotted Ginny and Hermione.

"Ginny!" they both called at the same time.

Ginny turned at the sound of her own name. She tried to offer a smile when she saw who it was, but her lips were caught in a permanent frown for the time being.

Teddy hugged Ginny when they reached her, and he could feel her trembling, trying not to cry on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

He could feel her lips twist into a sardonic grin. "Oh, as well as one can be expected to be in situations like these."

"You should have seen her earlier," Hermione said from her position leaning against one of the white walls. "Nearly took a Healer's head off."

Ginny let go of Teddy and hugged Victoire. "Don't exaggerate, Hermione."

"Who's exaggerating?" Hermione asked. "If that Healer hadn't given you your orange lemonade, she would be dead. At your hands."

"Orange lemonade?" Victoire asked.

Ginny showed them a disposable plastic cup. "It works wonders."

-:-:-:-

Dominique had been in the middle of training with the Ballycastle Bats when her Uncle Ron's Patronus arrived. She didn't hear the message, because the Patronus had landed on the field, and Dominique was hovering midair by the goal hoops (she was a Keeper), but she knew that something bad must have happened. Ron never sent his Patronus to the kids of the Weasley family unless it was something very, very bad. Luckily, such a situation had only happened once before, referred to as simply the Incident of '09.

She landed immediately, hopped off her broom, and Apparated out of there, to the immense confusion of her teammates.

She charged into the St. Mungo's lobby (still in her full Quidditch attire), and hopped over patients, chairs, and any other obstacles that got in her way. She finally skidded to a stop in front of Harry's room. Her sister, her sister's boyfriend, and two aunts regarded her with little interest, as they were plenty used to Dominique's antics.

She spit a long strand of fiery red hair out of her mouth, and straightened herself out. Her sister stared at her bemusedly.

"So, what'd I miss?"

Victoire raised an eyebrow. "You sure know how to make an entrance."

"It's a talent, what can I say?" Dominique shrugged.

"Orange lemonade?" Teddy asked, holding out a pitcher.

"Oh, I'd love some!"

-:-:-:-

Young Molly arrived soon after that, a quill and scroll of parchment still in her hand, and her parents, Percy and Audrey, not too long after that.

Bill and Fleur showed up, the latter holding a large container of cookies.

"Chocolate chip," Fleur informed them solemnly. Everyone took one.

George, Angelina, older Molly, and Arthur all showed up.

Everyone sat in silence. Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

-:-:-:-

"Bloody hell, Roxy, that's my knee!"

"Shut up, Hugo, I couldn't move if I wanted to. Because _someone's_ sitting on me!"

"It's not my fault!"

"James, it's _always_ your fault."

"No one asked you, Al!"

"LOUIS, GET OFF OF ME!"

"Child, you're louder than Hagrid."

"Stop being a jerk, Lucy."

"Me? A jerk? The child's not only loud, but dreadfully deluded."

"That _child_ is not only thirteen years old, but perfectly capable of hearing every word you're saying!"

"You're the baby of the Potter family. That makes you a child."

"Fred, get your bloody arse out of my face!"

"Oh, sorry!"

The nine kids got themselves straightened out from where they were tangled in a heap in front of St. Mungo's fireplace.

A woman with teapots as hands started yelling at them in a mix of German and Swedish, hot water pouring out of her teapot-hands and pooling on the floor.

Lily unconsciously moved closer to Al, who put his hand on her lower back.

"Where's Uncle Harry's room?" Roxanne asked. She was twirling her dark hair around her fingers, a habit she did whenever she was nervous.

"Fourth Floor," James told her.

Roxanne's eyes widened. "Spell Damage?" she read from a sign.

"He's an Auror, Rox. These kinds of things are inevitable," Fred told her, uncharacteristically gloomy.

"Stop the chit-chat. We've got to _go_," Lucy reminded them, giving them all a push towards the lift.

"Is Dad going to be okay?" Lily asked quietly.

James and Al shared a look.

The silence continued.

Lily's question hung in the air, taking up the space in the elevator like a gigantic beast. It filled their ears with its substance. Those six words.

When the lift clanged to a stop, the kids piled out into the fourth floor hallway.

"Mum!" Lily shouted.

Ginny turned to the sound of her youngest child's voice.

"You're here!"

"McGonagall's a softie at heart," Fred explained. "She sent us through her Floo."

"Any word on Dad?" James asked.

Ginny glanced at the door to her right. "No. The Healers are keeping it under wraps."

"But we're family!" Lucy protested.

"Believe me, I've been trying to tell them that for almost half an hour," Ginny sighed. "We just have to wait."

And wait they did.

-:-:-:-

Ginny slid down the wall in defeat, resting her head in the crook of her elbows.

-:-:-:-

James and Al sat cross-legged next to each other.

They stared at each other in trepidation.

James arm found its way around Al's shoulder.

-:-:-:-

"You told me he'd be okay."

It was barely more than a whisper, but Victoire heard it as clearly as if Teddy had shouted it from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Victoire laid her head on his shoulder, the tears that had been gathering in her eyes giving up the struggle and tracking down her face.

-:-:-:-

"Mrs. Potter," a middle-aged Healer said.

Ginny's head shot up from where it was resting on Bill's shoulder. "Yes?"

The Healer beckoned her over.

"What is it? Is he okay?" Ginny demanded.

The Healer looked down at her official-looking clipboard. Choosing not to answer Ginny's questions, she said, "Mr. Potter is in critical condition."

"Yes, of course," Ginny retorted. "That much I've gathered. But no one is telling me what's wrong with him!"

"I don't know the whole story. You're brother—" she examined the board again "—Mr. Ronald Weasley can tell you the story after the Healers release him. I just have gathered what I could from your husband's injuries.

"To start, I suspect a long period of contact with the Cruciatus Curse, which is what most of the problem is. His arm and a couple of ribs are broken, his ankle sprained, and his leg fractured."

"That's simple to fix. If I brought my children here every time they broke a bone, you would have a room reserved especially for us," Ginny pointed out.

"While that may be true for normal cases, Mr. Potter's mind is in a fragile state. Performing magic on him is risky. It could even be deadly."

"But that's okay, right? Broken bones aren't life-threatening. Just fix it the Muggle way."

"There are other things to take into account, too. Like the blood loss."

Ginny's head was spinning. "Is it bad?"

"Enough to be concerned," the Healer said evasively.

Ginny fell back against the wall, her knees no longer supporting her weight.

"But he is no longer on the brink of death," the Healer said dryly. "On which I'm sure he's been many times before."

Ginny exhaled slowly. "Can I see him?"

The Healer scrutinized Ginny for a long time. "He's not allowed to have visitors," she said finally.

Ginny's head dropped in defeat.

The Healer's gaze softened slightly. "But I think we can make an exception," she amended.

Ginny met the Healer's steady gaze. "Thank you."

-:-:-:-

Al had fallen asleep against the wall, James's arm still around his shoulder. James studied his brother's sleeping form and wished that he too could slip into unconsciousness, if only to forget the current circumstances for a little while.

His mother was conversing rapidly with a Healer around the corner. James couldn't make out the words, but he could hear the desperation in his mum's voice. Sometimes, her voice rose to a near shout. James tried not to think of what they could possibly be talking about that would make his mother sound like that.

Across the hall, right next to his father's door, Lucy was trying to distract Lily, Hugo, and Roxanne with a deck of Exploding Snap cards, which she had produced out of her uniform pocket. Disregarding, of course, in typical Weasley fashion, the school rule of "No games in class."

Lucy looked up and met James's eye, offering a weak smile of comfort before returning to her game.

James turned his head the other way and saw Victoire all snuggled up against Teddy. Normally, James would have wolf-whistled, or called them out on it, or any number of immature things, but these were not normal circumstances. James turned his head away without acknowledging their lovey-dovey position.

James returned his gaze back to the wall blocking his view of his mother and the middle-aged Healer that she was talking to.

Suddenly, the very person of his musings, his mother, appeared.

"We can go see him," she announced.

James scrambled to his feet, accidently letting Al's head to crack against the wall. Effectively waking his brother up.

"Wha'?" Al mumbled, disoriented from his rude awakening.

"Dad," James informed him simply.

That set Al straight right away. Shooting to his feet, he followed James over to the door to their father's room.

Ginny took hold of the door handle, and with grim determination, thrust it open.

-:-:-:-

"Dear Merlin," someone gasped.

The sight in front of them was certainly a "Dear Merlin"-worthy moment. Even Hermione, who was almost used to her best friend's constant injuries, sucked in a breath.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Bill breathed.

The object of everyone's undivided attention was, of course, Harry. But this Harry was battered and bruised. This Harry's face was so bloodied, it was barely recognizable. This Harry was not, by any means, the normal Harry.

Roxanne burst into tears. "U-u-uncle Harry!" she wailed.

"Shh," a nearby Healer shushed them irritably. Roxanne was so surprised, she quieted immediately. The scowling Healer shot them all dirty looks before gathering up some charts, double-checking an IV attached to Harry, and stalking out the door.

"Harry," Ginny whimpered, sinking to her knees next to her husband. She clutched at his hand, careful not to jostle any of the tubes and wires connected to him.

Hermione put her hand over her mouth, her eyes filling up with tears.

"What are the tubes and stuff?" George asked, eyeing the IV bag with trepidation.

"Muggle stuff," Percy explained. His face was questioning as he tried to work out answers. "But why—?"

"He was hit with the Cruciatus," Ginny managed to say through her tears. She suddenly turned livid. "The bastards hit him with the Cruciatus!" She dissolved into heartbroken sobs.

Hermione knelt down next to Ginny, and without question, Ginny turned her head and collapsed into Hermione's shoulder. Hugging her heartbroken friend, Hermione tried to explain. "When the mind has affected with too much magical influence, it proves to be incapable of accepting anymore. It shuts down completely, effectively killing the afflicted patient."

"What?" Fred asked nervously.

"Harry was under the Cruciatus for so long, any more magic will hurt him," Percy clarified quietly. "Even kill him."

"Merlin, Percy!" Audrey whimpered. "Don't!"

"It's the truth," Percy whispered.

-:-:-:-

Eventually, everyone squeezed Harry's hand, gave Ginny a sympathetic look, and slipped back out the door, taking their children with them.

"If you need me…" Fred trailed off, gave James a meaningful look, and scurried after his parents, who were taking their leave.

Soon only the Potters and Hermione were left, after a brief fight with Rose and Hugo about staying with Percy and Audrey for a bit.

"Merlin, what if he doesn't get better?" Ginny whispered to Hermione. James, Al, and Lily had fallen asleep in the two chairs by the bed. Lily was curled up in Al's lap.

"The Healers said he would be fine," Hermione said diplomatically.

"They also said Great-great Uncle Aldo would be fine, but look where that got him!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He was one hundred and fifty-three, Ginny."

Choosing to ignore Hermione's statement, Ginny squeezed her husband's hand. "Hermione, I never forgave him."

"What are you talking about? Forgave him for what?"

"Not letting me bail on studying."

"What the—Ginny, you're talking nonsense!"

"You forced us to study one day in my sixth year, and I snogged him, and he said that that didn't get me out of studying, so I said I would never forgive him, and it's been going on for years, and oh, Hermione I've been perfectly horrible!" Ginny broke down sobbing again.

Hermione sat frozen, eyebrows up somewhere under her hairline. "Uh, _why_?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Merlin, you're thick sometimes," Hermione said under her breath.

Ginny became indignant. "Am not! I'm just too stubborn!"

"There is a really simple remedy to this," Hermione said. "Forgive and forget."

"Well, of course I forgive him. I really forgave him years ago. But what if he had died? What if this was a lot worse, and he _died_, Hermione? I would never forgive _myself_."

"You're making way too big a deal out of this," Hermione said. "He's not dead, he's perfectly fine. When he wakes up, you'll forgive him, and everything's back to normal. It's _really_ simple, Ginny."

"What would I do without a brainiac friend like you?" Ginny sniffled.

-:-:-:-

"Hermione! Ginny!" Ron burst into the room.

He looked like he had met a rabid cat in a dark alley. Every visible part of his body was covered in scratches. Not deep, but enough to hurt. His arm was anchored to his chest in a sling.

"Ron!" Hermione jumped up and immediately started fussing over him. "You need to tell us everything that happened. Everything! I knew I shouldn't have let you go on that mission! Just think of—"

"Later, Hermione," Ron said.

He turned to look at Harry. "God. I didn't know it was this bad."

He lifted one of Harry's limp hands, examined it, then laid it gently back on the bed. He turned to the two women in the room, who were regarding him with a worried expression. "We ran into Dolofony."

Hermione gasped in recognition, but Ginny furrowed her brow. "Who's that?"

"He's a werewolf," Ron said darkly. "One of the worst I've ever encountered. I think he was bitten by Greyback pretty early on in the war. Whenever he was bitten, he was bitten pretty young. I can tell he's been a werewolf for a while."

"And he's—he's who did this to Harry?" Ginny asked softly.

"Not all of it," Ron said. He pointed out a particularly nasty gash on Harry's arm. "That was more or less the fault of Moore."

"Moore? But I thought he was on your team?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but he causes more problems than he solves," Ron said, shaking his head. "Harry was all for choosing someone else in his place, but no one could argue that Moore had been there longer than almost everyone else. They out ruled Harry at the meeting before we left."

"He's the Head Auror! He's in charge!" Ginny said indignantly.

"But he only has so much power over a majority. Harry figured he'd give him a chance," Ron said. "Moore set off a trap immediately when we got there. A werewolf would've gotten him if Harry hadn't stepped in. Got a couple scratches."

"But the Healers said he had had long periods of contact with the Cruciatus," Ginny remembered. "When did that happen?"

"Well, after we got away from the ambush, we retreated a bit. Set up camp. Started to think," Ron told them. "We had to create a new plan. Our other one was ruined the second Moore alerted them to our presence.

"We stayed for a couple days, and no werewolves came at us. Harry decided to have us surround the wolves and attack."

"What happened?" Hermione asked when Ron paused.

"I'm getting there, Hermione, relax!" Ron said irritably. "So we surrounded the wolves, but Moore set off another trap."

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione exclaimed.

"And Harry doubled back to help out while the rest of us went on. But when we got to the wolves' site, no one was there. It was a trick. They all went after Harry and Moore."

Ron looked down at Harry again. "We ran back as fast as we could. We had an encounter with a couple of wolves, but Auxley is a brilliant dueler, and he took them out it about three seconds."

"Thank goodness _someone's_ worth something on that team," Hermione said.

"When we got there, Moore was unconscious and Harry looked like this." He gestured to Harry's still form. "But he was still on his feet, still dueling, and with Dolofony, too. It's a wonder he didn't get killed."

"But the Cruciatus?" Ginny asked.

"I'm _getting_ there, I said," Ron said crossly. "Auxley started dueling this one wolf, and got knocked out pretty fast. Took the werewolf down, too, bless him.

"The other bloke on our team, Morrison, dragged Moore and Auxley away. Apparated them here, I think. He came back a few minutes later, took down a couple wolves, and then was dragged away by one of them."

"Oh, how awful!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I think he got away, though. I heard a crack after a few minutes. I might have been the sound of Apparation."

Ron scuffed the toe of his trainer on the floor.

"The wolf I was fighting got me pinned down after a bit. That's when Dolofony started on the Cruciatus," Ron said softly. "It was terrible. The look on Harry's face." Ron looked away. "I tried to get at him, but I couldn't. He was screaming…"

Ginny tapped her fingers against the nightstand. "It's not your fault."

"I just feel like it could be helped," Ron said dejectedly. "That _I_ could help."

"And you yet you make fun of _me_?"

All three of them jumped. They looked down at the source of the voice, and met two familiar green eyes.

"Harry!"

"Hi."

Ginny let out a breath. "Don't ever do that to me again. God, Harry."

"We got here, and you were unconscious, and looked like _that_—" Hermione covered her mouth with her hands again.

"I'm guessing I look pretty good, then?"

"You've seen better days, mate," Ron said.

"Did Moore, Auxley, and Morrison get away?"

"Moore and Auxley were brought here. They got released pretty quickly. I don't know about Morrison, though. He might have Apparated away, but I'm not sure."

"I hope he got away. He's an okay bloke."

Suddenly, the room was flooded with Healers. Harry looked positively alarmed. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were shunted to the side.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, woken up by all of the commotion.

"Seriously. I fall asleep for five minutes…" James shook his head.

"Your dad's awake," Ginny told them.

Lily jumped up. "Really?"

"We have to let the Healers do their job. You can see him later," Hermione said.

The family watched the Healers for awhile.

Very soon, James grew restless. He looked at the Healers, to Al, to his mother, then back to Al. A moment passed.

Then he reached out and whapped him on the head.

"James Sirius!" their mum admonished.

"What was that for?" Al yelled.

"I haven't hit you enough lately. I have to reach a certain quota," James replied defensively.

"So you just reach out and hit me?" Al sputtered.

James shrugged, half apologetic. "Yeah, that's pretty much how it works."

"Does that mean I can hit Al, too?" Lily asked, warming to this idea.

"No, you bloody well can't!" Al snapped.

"No hitting!" Ginny said loudly.

"But—"

"Ah!"

"But, Mum—"

"I said no."

James pouted and crossed his arms. Ron and Hermione tried not to laugh.

"He's making a nice recovery," a Healer told Ginny as he passed, folding up some papers.

Ginny just smiled.

-:-:-:-

"Thanks again for taking the kids, Hermione," Ginny told her friend as they hugged at the door.

"What, I don't get acknowledgement?" Ron asked.

"We both know that you don't do anything," Ginny retorted.

Harry snorted from his spot back on the bed, eating a piece of toast.

Ron pointed at him as he shrugged on his coat. "That's enough out of you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and started out the door, taking hold of Lily's hand. "Call us in the morning. Tell us how he's doing."

"I'm _fine_," Harry said for the umpteenth time.

"And look it, too," Ron snorted.

"Ah, shut up, Weasley," Harry replied.

The Ron, Hermione, James, Al, and Lily waved one final time and disappeared around the corner.

"So." Ginny sat down next to Harry.

Harry struggled into a better position. "So. Hermione said you might have something to tell me."

"Maybe."

"What would that be?"

Ginny sighed. "It sounded so much easier in theory."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Okay…?"

"I forgive you," Ginny said primly.

Harry's face broke into a grin. "Well, it's about time."

"Don't rub it in, or anything," Ginny said sarcastically.

"You're taking this well, I see."

"I lose leverage against you! Of course I'm not taking this well!"

"If it helps," Harry offered, "I could refuse to give you a bite of this toast. And then you could overreact and claim that you'll never forgive me."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "I don't want your _toast_."

"But it's white bread. With pre-packaged butter!"

"Tempting, but no."

Harry shrugged and shoved the rest of the bread in his mouth. "Delicious."

Ginny smiled, but it melted off her face as she picked at the hem of Harry's blanket.

Harry sighed. "What's wrong?"

"It was such a silly thing," Ginny said with a humorless laugh. "And then you almost died. What if you had? And I know it isn't a big deal, but you were _so_ _set_ on making me forgive you. What if you had died and I hadn't forgiven you? I couldn't have lived with myself."

"I honestly would not have been all that torn up about it, Ginny," Harry said. "I mean, sure, it was fun, trying to get you to crack, but it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Easy for you to say," Ginny said. "You'd be dead."

"Ginny, just eat the toast," Harry said, handing her a piece.

Ginny took the toast with a smile. "Toast. The great equalizer."

"Works wonders, it does," Harry agreed.

Together, they clanked their glasses of orange lemonade and talked late into the night.

And Ginny realized that as long as she had her husband, everything was okay, running joke or no.

And that was how it ended.

**A/N: Wow, can you say terrible Spiderwoman? How long has it been? 2 months? More? This chapter was extremely long and I wanted the finale to be extra-good. I hope you guys didn't think it was ending last chapter. Some of the reviews had me thinking you guys thought it was ending. My fault entirely, sorry guys.**

** So, yeah, it's ending! This is the last chapter! You guys who read and review and favorite and alert and stuff…you are unbelievably amazing. I know it sounds cliché and stuff, but really, it is so nice to know my work is appreciated. I don't share my work with anyone because I'm a bit insecure, and I always freak out a bit when I post a new story on here, but you guys have me feeling great. I didn't get one negative review for this. The constructive criticism was **_**wonderful, **_**and you were just generally the sweetest people on the planet. Thank you so, so, so much. Wow, that doesn't even START to cover the gratitude I feel to you guys. Love you all.**

**Please leave me one last review to tell me how I did. Like the ending? Hate it? It just takes a couple minutes, if that. **

** I'm feeling really good guys. Summer's still not completely over, I'm listening to Fun. and it's just a pretty good day. Want to make it better? Send me one final review.**

** Thank you so much!**


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